My Angel is a Dragon, My Devil is a Snake
by Catspook
Summary: Sequel to 'Precious'- fifth year, Voldemortless fic - lots and lots of Lucius angst- some violence, flashbacks of abuse, etc. but also lots of fluff- be sure to read 'Precious' first *Revised 5/7/11*
1. Old Crimes

Old Author's Note (Abridged): Okay, for that of you who like Lucius angst, you are going to love this story. It's going to alternate between extreme Lucius angst and a much lighter, humorous situation at Hogwarts. As far as pairings go, I'm warning you in advance that this is going to be Draco/Millicent. If you don't like that, tough. I'm an ugly girl myself, and I think that she isn't given nearly as much press as she should be.

Disclaimer: They're not mine. You knew that.

My Angel is a Dragon, My Devil is a Snake

-Catspook

Chapter 1: Old Crimes

"Well here you are, off to another year at Hogwarts." Lucius smiled at Draco sadly as a baggage handler stowed away Draco's luggage. Lucius had intentionally arrived at the station early so that he could say goodbye to Draco in private; he was going to miss his precious son terribly.

Draco smiled back. "I'll miss you, father."

"I'll miss you too. I'll owl you at least twice a week. If you want to come home or need anything, just ask, and I'll be there in an instant. Remember to dress warmly and eat properly; I know you hate hearing it, but you're still too thin-" Lucius stopped when Draco smirked at him and rolled his eyes.

Draco smiled and hugged him; Lucius hugged back tightly. They suddenly broke apart, however when an amused voice commented, "That's so sweet. I wish I had a dad to worry about me like that." Lucius glared hatefully at a tanned boy who was hanging partially out a carriage window and grinning at them.

"Do you mind, Valini?" Draco snapped.

"Not at all." But the brat didn't move; he just kept leering at them.

"Go away," Draco said imperiously. Valini shrugged innocently.

"Where am I to go? Honestly, I mean you no harm. I don't have a father, so I must live vicariously through others." Valini then crossed his arms over the edge of the window and leaned on them, making it very clear he had no intention of going anywhere. Draco rolled his eyes and hugged Lucius again, Valini be damned.

Valini just smiled again, in a way that annoyingly reminded Lucius of Dumbledore. Well, to Hell with the self-righteous brat; Lucius hugged Draco tightly. "I will miss you so much, precious. Oh, and I almost forgot..." Lucius dug around in his pocket and pulled out a large pouch full of galleons. "Your pocket money. Owl me if you need more."

"Thanks." Draco slipped the bag into his pocket and sighed, "Well, I guess this is it..."

Lucius could hear the fear creeping into Draco's voice, though probably no one else would have been able to. "If you don't want to go through with this, we can go home right now."

Draco shook his head. "No, father, I have to go back. I need to learn how to be around people."

"You're certain?"

Draco smiled shyly. "Yes. But... could you stay a little while longer?"

"Of course; I'll stay until you want me to go. Let's find a carriage."

O~O~O~O~O

Draco groaned. "Here come Potter and Black."

Lucius raised an eyebrow. "Interesting, apparently twelve years in Azkaban actually managed to teach him punctuality."

"Or else Potter did. He looks awfully eager to see Valini, doesn't he?" And he did; Potter ran across the platform, shouting a boisterous greeting, while Valini came bolting out of the train. The Slytherin boy pinned Potter up against the side of the car and kissed him deeply; almost as deep as Potter's ensuing blush. Black just watched, chuckling. Lucius shook his head.

"Disgusting; that man should never have been put in charge of a child. At least they can't inadvertently impregnate each other."

Draco shuddered. "Ugh. One Potter is more than enough. We're already badly outnumbered." Many of the pureblooded Slytherin students (and a few from other houses) had transferred to Durmstrang and Beauxbatons this year, including all of Draco's former friends. No one knew exactly why, but there were plenty of rumors flying around, mostly centered around last year's defeat of You-Know-Who and the revelation the sorting hat had been placing muggle-born students in Slytherin house for the last ten years.

"And speaking of over-populated Gryffindors, the Weasleys actually managed to arrive earlier than a minute before the train is due to leave."

The redheaded horde tumbled through the barrier between platforms nine and ten looking as disorganized as ever. Potter rushed over and greeted all the Weasleys enthusiastically, while Valini sauntered after, waving like a performer on a stage.

Lucius and Draco watched as more and more children arrived with their families. Lucius sneered at Granger's muggle parents, who were exchanging pleasantries with the Weasleys.

"I can't wait to see Granger's face when she finds out she didn't come out on top of everything," Draco grinned.

"Now, Draco, it's not very dignified to gloat." Draco pouted. "That is why I asked Severus to bring it in class."

Draco grinned, "Thank you."

Lucius smiled, "It was the least I could do after you made prefect."

"Yeah, but so did Potter and Granger. And Valini, for that matter."

"Forget them. You did well, and you will continue to do well; they are irrelevant."

"I guess." Draco looked despondent, so Lucius held open his arms. Draco smiled and embraced his father.

"I'm going to miss you, my precious boy."

"You said that already."

"It bears repeating."

"Mm." Draco just sat in Lucius' arms while Lucius watched the children climb on to the train.

Suddenly, a sense of dread crept over Lucius; something terrible was about to happen. He pulled Draco on to the floor, drew his wand from his cane, and said, "Draw your wand. Lock the compartment door once I'm out. Promise me, Draco, that no matter what happens you will *stay here* until I come for you."

Draco drew his wand, his eyes wide with fear. "I promise."

"I love you." Lucius gripped Draco's hand desperately then bolted out of the compartment. He pushed past confused students and had reached the car's exit just as the first student screamed. Death Eaters started apparating into the middle of the platform by the dozens, casting unforgivables at anyone who was close.

Lucius did not hesitate either; he dove into the crowd, trying desperately to keep the Death Eaters away from the train. But the press of the crowd was simply too much, and each step seemed to drag him further away. Through the fray, Lucius could see many panicking students and parents, getting mixed up with those who were fighting back. Lucius might have noticed that the Death Eaters seemed to take particular interest in Potter and the newly revealed Slytherin muggle-borns if he did not also have more than his share of Death Eaters after him.

"You bloody traitor!" one screamed at him and attempted the Avada Kedavra. But before the Death Eater could finish, he screamed in pain and pitched forward. A blond woman dressed as a muggle had kicked him savagely behind one knee. Lucius cast Petrificus Totalus on the Death Eater before he could regain his balance. Lucius watched as the woman ran off to battle another Death Eater.

Forgetting the muggle, Lucius turned and stunned another dark wizard, but then gasped in pain as a crippling curse hit his left shoulder. A female Death Eater lunged at him, but Lucius managed to disarm the witch with such force that she was flung backwards. A resolute looking mother (Lucius thought her name was Melissa Jordan, but he couldn't swear to it) petrified the Death Eater as she hit the ground. Mrs. Jordan then grabbed the Death Eater's wand and put it in her pocket, ducking another curse. Lucius nodded his thanks to Mrs. Jordan as she disappeared into the chaos. Lucius took out several more Death Eaters before he heard the sound he'd been dreading since he was dragged away from the train.

"Father, help!"

O~O~O~O~O

Draco watched nervously as Lucius ran out of the train compartment. He slammed the door shut and locked it like his father had told him to. He huddled on the floor, dreading whatever it was that had made Lucius so wary. Draco jumped when he heard the first scream. His eagle owl, Hades, screeched and flapped restlessly inside his cage as Draco crawled to the window.

He slowly raised his head until he could see the Death Eaters apparating all over the platform. Draco looked around frantically for his father, terrified that something might happen to him. Draco knew that he should duck down, out of sight, but he could not tear his eyes away from his father. But in concentrating so hard on the battle outside, Draco had forgotten the door.

Without warning, it exploded inward showering Draco with splinters and glass and making Hades screech madly. Draco tried to stupefy the Death Eater who came charging at him, but before he could finish the incantation, the hulking figure in black had yanked his wand away and pinned him against the outer wall and window. Draco then began to panic as the Death Eater started pulling up the hem of Draco's green robe and stroking the inside of his skinny thighs.

Draco whimpered in fear as the dark wizard leaned forward, his while mask cold and hard against Draco's cheek, and whispered "That idiot Crouch said you were good; shame he couldn't hold onto you properly. I won't make the same mistake." Blinded by terror, Draco struck out at the Death Eater, relying completely on instinct. He kicked madly, driving one knee into the Death Eater's groin. The Death Eater gasped in pain, and his grip on Draco loosened the slightest bit. Draco slashed at the masked figure with a large, jagged shard of glass, catching him on the shoulder and causing him to loosen his grip a bit more.

With a final push, Draco was able to struggle free. He grabbed for his wand as he ran out but caught a handful of glass instead. He screamed but kept running; he had to get away! Draco only vaguely noticed that there were no other Death Eaters on the train, just groups of frightened students, mostly younger ones. Most of them, also, had had the good sense to barricade themselves inside their compartments.

Draco had to duck as the Death Eater started after him, firing curse after curse. The few students who had been in the hallway screamed, but the Death Eater paid them no mind; he was after Draco and Draco alone. Draco scrambled through the exit of the car stumbling on the steep stairs. He fell, landing hard on his left arm. He swallowed the scream of pain and tried to crawl away desperately, but the glass still embedded in his right palm and the fact that he couldn't move his left hand made it impossible for him to use his arms.

Strong hands grabbed him under his armpits and slammed him against the side of the train. "You shouldn't have done that, little snake. You're going to pay for that."

Draco sobbed faintly. There was nothing else he could do; he didn't have the strength fight this monster alone. But as the Death Eater shredded the skirt of Draco's robe, Draco remembered that he wasn't really alone; not like he had been with Crouch. "Father, help!" Draco screamed as loudly as he could.

The Death Eater snarled in rage and slammed Draco's head against the side of the train. "Shut up, little snake. You're daddy can't help you." Draco whimpered as the Death Eater pulled down Draco's underclothes and groped his genitals roughly. Where was his father?

O~O~O~O~O

Arthur sensed the Death Eaters' arrival a moment before it happened. "Kids, on the train, *now*," he ordered, but dark wizards were already appearing. Molly, Sirius, and the kids all drew their wands, tossing curses at the Death Eaters as fast as they could speak the incantations. Arthur spotted Lucius Malfoy rushing out of a train car, wand raised, and wondered briefly why he was not dressed as a Death Eater.

Arthur's first concern was for the children, but there was a mob of Death Eaters between them and the train, and there was no other reliable cover. "Stay together, everyone!" he yelled between curses. He realized immediately that the Death Eaters were targeting specific people as well as just causing general mayhem. "Harry, stay behind me!"

But Harry wasn't listening. Ron collapsed, stunned, and Harry leapt forward to battle the Death Eater who had cast the spell before she could do further harm. Blaise, who had appeared to have drawn a knife as well as his wand, followed immediately behind.

"Expelliarmis!" Sirius cried, sending the dark witch's wand flying as Harry cast a full body bind. Another Death Eater charged at Harry, the killing curse on his lips, but the twins tossed some of their inventions at him and he fell to the ground, covered in yellow slime. Fred had the good sense to grab the Death Eaters wand and shove it into his pocket.

Molly was at Ron's side in a minute and enervated him. Ginny was there too, tossing curses at the nearest Death Eaters. Arthur had been worried how she might react in a threatening situation given what had happened her first year, but she was doing fine, thank Merlin. Seeing that the kids were all right, Arthur charged forward, trying to subdue as many Death Eaters as possible. As he darted through the fray, he saw Malfoy frantically battling groups of dark witches and wizards.

Once the Death Eaters realized that Arthur was a significant threat to them, they started targeting him as well. He had to draw on everything that he had learned in the last war as an auror, but it had been fifteen years, and he was no longer in his thirties. He incapacitated as many Death Eaters as he could, but their curses were coming unsettlingly close to him.

Arthur dropped as a Cruciatus hit him full force. For the sake of his children, he tried to restrain his screams, but several broke free of him anyway. Suddenly, the pain ended, and strong hands pulled him to his feet. "You all right there?" a blonde woman in muggle clothing asked. Arthur nodded automatically, vaguely noticing that she was splattered with blood.

"Good," the woman panted as if she had run a great distance. "Look out!" she yelled suddenly, knocking Arthur to the side, spinning around, and kicking an advancing Death Eater, shattering his knee cap. As he pitched forward, she kicked him in the face; the impact was so forceful that the Death Eater's mask shattered and his nose was crushed.

He fell to the ground moaning and dripping blood. Arthur put the full body bind on him and gathered up his wand; adding it to the collection he was slowly amassing in his deep pockets. The blonde muggle (she must have been a muggle; she had no wand) looked at Arthur and actually grinned. "I guess all those years of martial arts and self defense classes weren't wasted." Arthur nodded, dazed, as she ran off.

Arthur took out several more Death Eaters until he heard a desperate cry, "Father, help!"

Arthur searched frantically for the source of the plea, terrified that the Death Eaters had cornered one of his own children; never mind that his kids all called him 'Dad'. Arthur finally spotted Draco Malfoy pinned up against the side of the train, being assaulted by a large Death Eater.

But before Arthur could figure out how to subdue the Death Eater without hurting Draco, Lucius came to his son's defense. His chest heaving with rage, and forgoing his wand, Lucius sprinted towards the Death Eater, grabbed the back of the dark wizard's hood (and presumably a handful of hair as well), and slammed the Death Eater's head into the side of the train with such force that his skull was crushed. Draco collapsed, sobbing, into Lucius' arms.

Arthur would never had expected it, but the expression on Lucius' face just then was so anguished and concerned that Arthur actually found himself admiring the devotion Lucius had for his boy. Arthur had always thought of Malfoy as a cold, heartless bastard; it had never occurred to him that he could love his son that much. Of course, that now explained why Lucius had been fighting against the Death Eaters; they had been targeting Draco for some reason. Or was it the other way around?

Arthur tore his eyes away from the Malfoys to rejoin the battle, but the ranks of Death Eaters had thinned considerably. Parents and older students were already targeting the few that were still standing. A couple of black robed figures advanced on the Malfoys, but Lucius cursed both of them, one arm still wrapped protectively around Draco.

Mindless of the bodies and blood littered around the platform, Lucius sat on the cement floor, cradling Draco in his lap. Both the boy's arms looked damaged, and Lucius inspected them carefully, cringing whenever Draco flinched in pain. Pushing this newfound and slightly disturbing image of Lucius Malfoy as a loving father out of his mind, Arthur picked his way across the platform to his family, checking Death Eaters along the way to make sure that they were indeed incapacitated. A handful of them were dead.

"Arthur! There you are!" Molly rushed up to Arthur and hugged him desperately. "Are you hurt?"

Arthur shook his head. "How are the children?"

"Fine, for the most part. George sprained his ankle and Ron has a bump on his head, but Blaise is the one I'm really worried about." Arthur glanced towards the boy, who was sitting on the cold cement, sobbing into his knees. Harry was kneeling next to him, trying to comfort him.

"What happened?" Arthur asked Molly quietly.

"He killed one of the Death Eaters that went after Harry. The poor boy; children should never have been dragged into this."

"But that's probably what they were after; why else attack the Hogwarts Express? I also noticed that they were after Harry and the muggleborns in particular. Are *you* all right?"

Molly smiled sadly and kissed him, "As well as can be expected."

O~O~O~O~O

Lucius' heart nearly stopped when he saw Draco pinned to the side of the Hogwarts Express by a large, hulking Death Eater. Completely mindless of the battle still raging around him, he ran to his son's defense. Forgetting that he was a wizard, forgetting that he was anything except a desperate father, he grabbed the back of the Death Eater's hood - getting a fistful of hair along with it - and rammed it into the side of the train. Blood and bits of bone and brain splattered all over Draco (and Lucius as well, though he was oblivious to this).

No longer being pinned up by the Death Eater, Draco fell into Lucius' arms, sobbing. Lucius tried to hug him, but Draco gave a muted scream, "Don't!"

"Draco, what's wrong? Where are you hurt? Oh, Merlin..." Lucius noticed Draco's glass mangled hand first and lifted it carefully.

"I think my other arm is broken," Draco panted tearfully.

"Oh, precious..." Lucius turned Draco around so he could hold him without hurting his arms. Two more Death Eaters charged at them, but Lucius stopped them easily; they were becoming increasingly disorganized and impulsive as their numbers dwindled. Without Voldemort to lead them, they appeared nothing more than disgruntled renegades.

Lucius sank to the ground, cradling Draco in his lap. Draco shifted his legs nervously, and Lucius realized that the front of Draco's robe was ripped open from waist to hem and his underclothes were down around his knees. Lucius' blood boiled; that monster had tried to rape his son!

"Here," Lucius whispered, pulling Draco's underclothes up and closing the gap in his robes. Draco cried quietly and buried the side of his face into Lucius' neck.

"It hurts, father."

"I know, but I can't attempt a numbing charm; I could cause permanent damage. I'm sure they'll have mediwizards here soon, just hang on, my dragon." The fact that he couldn't help Draco was causing Lucius an almost physical pain, but he had never learned healing magic.

The aurors arrived first, and some of the younger ones seemed almost disappointed that most of the Death Eaters had been subdued already. The mediwizards were next, but there were many others with more serious injuries than Draco's. Finally, the Hogwarts' professors arrived, and Severus immediately came to Draco's aid.

"Draco, what happened?"

"He came after me," Draco muttered, glancing at the body of the Death Eater. "I tried to grab my wand and got glass shards instead. And I broke my arm when I fell off the train." Draco's voice was trembling, and he gasped in pain every time Severus touched his wounds.

"How long have you been bleeding?"

"I... I don't know. Since a few minutes after father left the train. Ow!"

"Sorry," Severus apologized absentmindedly as he scanned Draco.

"That was about half an hour to forty-five minutes ago," Lucius supplied, glaring at Severus for hurting Draco. Severus nodded.

"You've lost some blood, but not too much, I don't think. I'm going to cast a numbing charm on your arms and remove the glass, heal those cuts, then mend your broken arm," he explained. Draco nodded, blinking back tears. Lucius tried to distract Draco while Severus worked, but Draco couldn't seem to resist staring as Severus removed each large piece of glass, sending blood gushing fourth from Draco's hand.

It was making Lucius nervous to see Draco loosing that much blood, but Severus finished quickly, and then healed the cuts. In a few minutes it was as if they had never been, except for the blood on Draco's robes and the pain Lucius had seen in his eyes. The broken arm was a bit trickier to heal, but that too was soon just a bad memory. Severus removed the numbing charms, and Draco moved both his hands and arms about to make sure they worked properly.

He smiled gratefully at Severus, "Thank you, Professor."

"You're perfectly welcome, Draco. I have others to tend to, but I hope to see you at Hogwarts tonight." Severus glanced at Lucius meaningfully before leaving; it had obviously occurred to him that Lucius might want to pull Draco out of Hogwarts after this incident.

"It's up to you, Draco. If you'd like, I'll take you straight home."

"I... can I think about it?"

"Of course. If I know the Ministry, and you know I do-" Draco grinned at him, "It will be hours yet before anyone will even be allowed to leave the scene. And for all we know, Dumbledore may decide to delay the beginning of the school year until this can be sorted out."

Draco nodded. "Father?"

"Yes?"

"Can you possibly clean all this blood off me?"

"Of course, son. This will be easier if we can stand." Draco moved out of Lucius lap, and they both climbed to their feet, leaning on each other. Lucius cast a series of cleaning charms on Draco, but could not repair his robes, which were in tatters from the waist down. "Thank you, father."

Draco then looked curiously at Lucius, "Aren't you going to cast one on yourself?" Lucius' eyes widened; he hadn't realized that he had blood on him, though thinking about it now, it would be nearly impossible for there not to be. He cast the charm and raised an eyebrow, "Acceptable?"

Draco smiled and hugged him. They stood that way, motionless, hanging onto each other for many minutes. Lucius had hoped to this insanity would die with Riddle, but the Death Eaters had proved to be more of a serpent than he had previously believed. With the head cut off, the body thrashed mindlessly for a time until the last vestiges of living energy were spent.

Lucius surveyed the damage cautiously over the top of Draco's head. The scattered bodies of the Death Eaters were slowly disappearing as the aurors apparated them to the ministry, or possibly even directly to Azkaban. If they were smart, they'd interrogate them all before letting the dementors have them, but Fudge was still Minister, and he had all the intellectual capabilities of a house elf.

The aurors were leaving the bodies of the dead Death Eaters until all the live ones had been transported. Glancing around, Lucius could not see any dead parents or children, but any bodies would have been removed to protect the younger students from the sight. The mediwizards had their hands full with all the wounded families, and many of the children were crying, some wandering around, looking for their parents. Some parents were searching for their lost children.

Lucius spotted the muggle woman whom he had seen earlier with an older blond girl, also in muggle clothes, arguing with a pair of flustered looking aurors. She gestured to various scattered Death Eaters with various physical injuries. Lucius surmised that she was claiming to have caused those injuries, but the aurors seemed unwilling to believe that a muggle had defeated so many Death Eaters. Finally, the woman pulled over a dozen wands out of her pockets and waistband and dropped them at the aurors' feet. She crossed her arms, daring the flustered wizards to refute her again, but all they could do was sputter apologies.

No wonder the Death Eaters had been defeated so easily; without Riddle, they couldn't even stand up to *muggles* for Merlin's sake! What was the wizarding world coming to?

"Father?" Draco asked, suddenly looking worried about something.

"What?"

"What about Hades? He's still in the compartment and there's glass and splinters everywhere."

"I'm sure he's all right. Let's go get him." Draco was right; glass and wood was everywhere. An explosion had destroyed the entire aisle facing wall, scorching the adjacent walls, ceiling, floor, and seats. Hades was still in his cage, hooting and flapping angrily. He appeared uninjured but was covered in glass shards. Draco opened the cage, and Hades stepped out, shaking off the debris then climbing onto Draco's proffered arm.

"He still has glass on him." Lucius pulled on a leather glove then gently brushed the last of the shards off the owl. Hades was, as always, well behaved. Lucius then shook the glass and wood out of the cage, and Draco placed Hades inside.

Lucius stooped to retrieve Draco's wand and the shaft of his cane. "Here you are, son; it looks undamaged." Draco took his wand gratefully. "Let's go find you a change of clothes, all right?" Draco nodded, and they left the decimated compartment.

* End Chapter 1 *


	2. Teddy Bears and Baby Things

Old Author's Note (Abridged): PLEASE READ THIS! The Lucius angst begins in this chapter; most of it is about him trying to cope with the abuse he suffered as a child, which is going to trigger a depressive episode. If that is not your thing, you might want to leave now. The chapters are written in 3rd person, but each section is focused on either Draco's or Lucius' POV. Any negative remarks about how either of them react to anything are *not* my opinion, but rather their own. I just want to make clear the fact that I, personally think that they are both very strong characters to survive what the have; they, on the other hand, (and especially Lucius) see themselves in a more negative light.

Disclaimer: They're not mine. You knew that.

My Angel is a Dragon, My Devil is a Snake

-Catspook

Chapter 2: Teddy Bears and Baby Things

"The train is set to leave soon, " Lucius reminded Draco three hours later. "Are you sure you don't want to come home? Even for just a week?"

Three children had lost a parent in the battle, one other lost a brother, and many others had sustained injuries that had had to be treated at St. Mungo's. Therefore, Dumbledore had declared that Hogwarts would open on time, but the Hogwarts Express would run again a week from today so that students who chose to or needed to stay with their families could do so. Many had already left, and those that hadn't where either already on the train or saying tearful goodbyes to their parents.

Draco looked at Lucius sadly, "I do want to, father, but I know that if I go home now, I'll never have the strength to leave again. I don't want to be afraid forever." Lucius smiled and brushed a lock of Draco's hair back.

"You're a braver man than I am, son."

The five-minute warning whistle blew, and Hades flapped restlessly in his cage. Draco blinked mist away from his eyes; he didn't want to leave his father, but he knew he had to.

"Goodbye, father." Draco hugged Lucius tightly, and Lucius hugged back just as tightly. When they finally broke apart, Draco picked up Hades' cage and climbed the narrow, metal stairs onto the train. Lucius stood to the side, and Draco bent over the rail, trying desperately to keep from crying. Lucius reached up and covered Draco's hand with his own. "Owl me tonight so that I know you got there safely, precious."

"All right."

"I'll miss you."

"I know. I'll miss you too." Draco needed to get out of there before he started bawling in front of everyone. Lucius seemed to understand.

He smiled and said, "Hurry on now and find a compartment. And don't forget to send an owl." The final whistle blew, and an instant after that, the train began to move.

"Goodbye, father," Draco called. Lucius smiled at him, and Draco forced himself to enter the car before he lost his nerve and jumped back onto the platform. He hated how frightened he was of being separated from his father and returning to Hogwarts. Taking a deep breath, Draco smoothed back his hair and went in search of an empty compartment.

There were many, but after several minutes sitting in one, Draco realized he didn't want to be alone. He wandered from compartment to compartment, looking for an acceptable companion. Now that all his former friends were off to Durmstrang, and Lucius had changed his politics, he had to start from scratch. Finally, near the back of the train, he found Millicent Bulstrode sitting alone with her old, scraggly cat purring loudly in her lap.

"Hello, Millicent."

"Uh, hello, Draco." Millicent looked vastly confused to have Draco speaking to her. That wasn't terribly surprising; the truth was that hadn't spoken much in the past four years, but Draco had few options, and perhaps Millicent could be a reasonable replacement for Crabbe or Goyle.

"May I come in?"

"Um, sure." Millicent eyed him warily as he sat in the adjacent seat, placing Hades' cage next to him. "Are you, uh, feeling better now?"

Draco frowned slightly; he was probably going to be asked that question a hundred times in the next week, and probably many others of an even more personal nature. "Yes. I'd rather not talk about it, if you don't mind."

Millicent flushed in embarrassment. Right away, that placed her head and shoulders above Crabbe and Goyle; she was intelligent enough to figure out that she had offended him, and she actually gave a damn. "Sorry," she muttered.

"It's all right. I'm just tired." Millicent smiled shyly and went back to petting her cat. Draco gazed out the window, watching the mundane scenery fly by. He missed his father already. Unconsciously, Draco drew his knees up to his chest and rested his head on them.

"Are you sure you're all right?" Millicent asked quietly. Draco glanced at her sharply. She didn't seem to have any ulterior motives nor any malicious intent in asking.

"I'm fine," Draco replied sternly.

"All right," Millicent replied, cowed.

Draco felt bad; he was used to Crabbe and Goyle, who were so thick that they never picked up on his casual insults. He would have to remember that Millicent seemed rather sensitive if he wanted her as a friend. "How are you?"

Millicent glanced up, surprise evident in her voice. "Fine."

"So how long has Valini been dating Potter?"

"Uh, since a couple of months before last term ended. Why?"

"I saw them back at the station. How did everyone react?"

"What do you mean?"

Okay, so maybe she wasn't that bright. "A Slytherin dating the golden boy of Gryffindor?"

"Oh, that. Blaise's goal is to unite the houses. He stated making friends with the Gryffindors right after You-Know-Who fell and everyone found out he was a muggle-born. It took a while, but now inter-house dating is cool."

Draco was shocked; had Valini destroyed in three months a rivalry that had lasted for a thousand years? Why hadn't Professor Snape mentioned it? "How did the Slytherins take it? Pansy, for example."

Millicent grinned slyly; Draco had always suspected that she and Pansy never really got on well. "She was mad, but Sally-Anne kind of took over the Slytherin girls. Pansy didn't come back after the Easter holidays; her parents probably sent her to Durmstrang, although she seemed to like Beauxbatons a lot too."

"She doesn't speak French," Draco replied absentmindedly. A mudblood was now the Queen of Slytherin? That probably meant, "I guess that means Valini is the leader of the boys now."

Millicent shrugged; she knew what implications that fact had for him. "I guess. Things could change, though."

Draco considered that. Did he even want to be the King of Slytherin if everyone wanted to date Gryffindors and... "What else has everyone been doing?"

"Well, Blaise had gotten everyone into muggle music and he got Margaret Smythe to rig up the ceiling in the Great Hall so he can play films on it."

"What are films?"

"Muggle things. They're like, um, portraits except they tell a story and keep changing scenes like a play."

"Oh." Draco frowned; no, it didn't sound like he wanted to be the King of Slytherin anymore. Well, at least he'd be under less stress, especially considering he was also giving up quidditch. He'd never really liked the game anyway. He'd just played in an effort to one-up Potter and make his father proud, but Lucius had told him that he didn't have to play anymore if he didn't want to.

Conversation dwindled after that. Draco had to think over things, and Millicent just wasn't the chatty type. At least, Draco didn't think she was; he didn't know her very well. In any case, they spoke very little for the rest of the journey, but Draco was glad for her company.

O~O~O~O~O

Lucius watched the train depart feeling completely empty inside. He was so proud of Draco for going back and finishing his education, but Lucius did not know what he was going to do now that Draco was gone. Lucius had resigned from his position at the ministry; he had told Draco it was because his time with Draco had shown him how really tedious that job was, but the fact of the matter was that Lucius knew he just wasn't capable of going back to work.

Draco may have recovered from Crouch's attack, but Lucius had not yet even begun to deal with the memories of Abraxas that had resurfaced. He had promised himself that he would deal with them once Draco was back at school, but now that the time had come he found himself terrified of facing the memories alone. He stood, motionless, on the platform, gripping the head of his cane tightly, deeply ashamed to discover that he didn't have the courage to apparate back to his own home. Never mind that it was the same place where Abraxas had raped and tortured him.

"Malfoy?"

"What do you want?" Lucius snarled at whoever had been fool enough to approach him in the mood he was in.

Arthur Weasley frowned at him but did not back away. "Why were they after Draco?"

Lucius glared at the blasted muggle-lover with all the hate he felt. "What business it that of yours?" Lucius sneered.

Weasley's eyes narrowed, but he stood his ground; stupid Gryffindor. "I never thought you'd change so much for your boy. I never thought you'd change at all."

"You don't know anything about me," Lucius growled hatefully and apparated before Weasley could respond. Now alone in the ballroom of Malfoy manor, Lucius didn't know what to do, an entirely unfamiliar feeling. As a child, he had done whatever he could to try to keep Abraxas from hurting him. After that, his life was devoted to the Dark Lord and his cause. And of course, Draco was his reason for being from the day the boy was born.

Lucius had filled the times when Draco was away at school with work, but that was obviously no longer an option. If Lucius had been a brave man, he would have walked to the dungeons, or his old bedroom, or even his father's tomb and confront the old man. But Lucius knew that he was not a brave man. He fled to one of the smaller libraries, which contained the numerous photo albums he had filled with pictures of Draco. If Lucius couldn't have his son with him, he could at least pretend for a while.

O~O~O~O~O

"We're here," Millicent said as the train pulled into the station at Hogsmeade. Draco nodded sleepily. He grabbed Hades' cage and exited the train, Millicent and her cat (now in a wicker carrier) close behind him. The few first years who had decided to take the train clustered together, looking scared. Potter, Granger, and Valini tried to calm them, but when Hagrid appeared they all stared at him, clearly intimidated.

Valini (and Potter, the self-righteous twit) volunteered to take the boats with them, but Hagrid insisted that he could handle them. The carriage ride and walk to the Great Hall was very subdued. Valini and Potter seemed unwilling to separate when it came time to sit at their house tables, but Granger pointed out that Valini should be there to greet the new Slytherin first years.

In searching for Professor Snape at his usual seat, Draco noticed, to his horror, Sirius Black at the Professor's table. Was he the new DADA professor? It seemed likely; especially considering the murderous looks Snape was sending Black.

The sorting was very short. Only thirteen first years had taken the train today. Five went to Gryffindor, three to Ravenclaw, three to Hufflepuff, and only two went to Slytherin. The feast was luxurious as usual, but many people didn't feel like eating. Valini prodded the two, little, Slytherin first years (Lillith Xavier and Jeffrey Pygmalion) with humor, but most of the students sat in near silence, picking at their food. Black and Potter kept exchanging glances as the golden trio chatted quietly with each other. Draco was glad for Millicent's silence; he didn't feel like speaking.

When the feast was over, Dumbledore gave the usual announcements (Black indeed was the new DADA professor, damn it all), along with a few additional comments, "Due to the excitement of this past day, classes will be canceled tomorrow," there were a few quiet cheers and a pitifully crushed expression formed on Granger's face, "Furthermore, for the second through seventh years, the class material will primarily focus on review until the rest of our classmates can join us next week. I think, also, that we shall reserve the singing of the school song until we can all enjoy it. If any of you have need, do not hesitate to go to our wonderful nurse, Madam Pomfrey for a sleeping potion, or talk to your prefects or heads of house. Good night and sleep well."

Valini blew Potter a kiss then rounded up the two Slytherin first years, leading them to the dungeons. Draco followed slightly behind them, suddenly remembering that he was supposed to have gone to the prefects' car for a short meeting during the train ride. But somehow he suspected that they weren't really standing on ceremony today; half of the prefects hadn't even been on the train.

Pygmalion strutted after Valini as if he were quite nervous but trying too hard to pretend that he wasn't. Xavier, who, to judge by the plastic clips in her hair, was either a mudblood or a half-blood, asked timidly, "Is it safe?"

Valini grinned, "Safe? You kidding? The Slytherin dorms are in the dungeon, like a giant bomb shelter. There isn't a safer place in the whole school."

Xavier smiled shyly, and Pygmalion rolled his eyes at Valini as if the tanned boy's antics were beneath him. Draco suspected that he would get along quite well with Pygmalion. Valini gave the first years a short orientation lecture before sending them off to bed. Draco suddenly realized how late it was; no wonder Dumbledore had thought to cancel tomorrow's classes.

Draco yawned widely and scowled, because he had just remembered that he had to send a letter to his father tonight. He was not looking forward to trekking all the way to the owlery and back. Thankfully, Draco found Hades waiting for him in the dorm when he went for his parchment and quills. The owl must have squeezed in through one of the dungeon's small, highly placed windows.

That was certainly convenient, and Draco should have expected it from one of the impeccably bred and rigorously trained Malfoy owls. Draco smiled at Hades and dug through his trunk for his stationary, but buried under his spare uniforms, he found something he didn't expect. It was a stuffed toy, of all things; a large panther with incredibly soft white-blond fur and skillfully crafted sliver and glass eyes. It felt warm, like a live animal, and tied around it's neck with a green and silver ribbon was a sealed letter bearing the Malfoy crest. Glancing about to make sure that Valini didn't find him holding a stuffed toy, Draco opened the letter. Obviously, it was from his father.

_Draco, _

_I hope you aren't too embarrassed by this gift. Ii is handcrafted and expensive if that makes you feel better. I was worried that you might have trouble sleeping in the dorms; I know how cold they can get. This panther is charmed to give off heat and wake you if you are having a nightmare - it will respond to any sounds of distress and become ice cold until you wake and say 'thermos'. If you don't like it, bury it at the bottom of your trunk; but if it becomes very cold some night, please use it. I don't want you catching ill either from the cold or having to stay up all night maintaining a heat spell (hide it in a pillow case if you're worried about being seen sleeping with a stuffed animal). Sleep well, my dragon. _

_love, Father_

Draco knew why Lucius had chosen a panther; while Draco had studied last summer, Lucius had undertaken his own academic project and become ananimagus; his animal form was a pale blond panther. Draco stroked the panther's head thoughtfully. He had been worrying about the nightmares, which were always worse when he slept alone, but Draco didn't want to unnecessarily risk Valini seeing him with a stuffed animal. He'd save it for when the weather got really cold.

After he buried the panther under all his school supplies (in case Valini got it in his treacherous head to take a peek inside Draco's trunk), Draco pulled out parchment and quills to write the letter to his father.

_Father, _

_I got to school okay. The train ride was fine; there were no problems. I spent most of the time with Millicent Bulstrode; I think she might be an acceptable replacement for Crabbe and Goyle. She's more intelligent by far then the both of them put together, and she knows when to keep her mouth shut as well. Dumbledore canceled classes for tomorrow so that we can sleep in. I want to enjoy it, so don't send Hades back too early. It's late, so I'm going to bed now. _

_Love, _

_Draco_

As an afterthought, Draco added,

_ps: Thanks for the panther. I'll use it when it gets cold. _

Draco tied the letter to Hades' leg and sent the owl off, once again thankful that he did not have to walk all the way to the owlery and back. Draco then pulled his lush, green bathrobe out of his trunk and headed to the showers, careful to lock his trunk before leaving the room.

When Draco returned, sleepy from the steam and hot water, he found Valini digging through his own trunk for his shower supplies. "Evenin', Draco," Valini greeted cheerfully.

"Mm," Draco had neither the energy nor the inclination to gave a more substantial reply. Valini didn't press it; just grinned idiotically and returned to his search, muttering; "Don't know why I always put him at the bottom...damn silly of me, really." Too tired to care who 'he' was, Draco knelt down by his own trunk and pulled out a silk dressing gown (green and silver, of course).

Draco jumped when Valini declared, "Aha! There you are!" Draco glared at his roommate, surprised to find the tanned boy holding a very worn, stuffed bear aloof like a trophy.

"What, by Merlin, is that?" Draco sneered.

Valini frowned at him. "This is Gabriel," he replied seriously, clutching the tattered toy to his chest like a four-year-old. "He's mine, so don't touch."

Draco sneered even more. "I wouldn't touch that disgusting thing with a ten foot pole."

"Ha! I bet you don't even have a teddy."

"So sure are you?" Draco scoffed, and dug the panther out of his trunk. "It's handcrafted and spelled to provide heat," he bragged, stroking its soft fur.

Valini turned up his nose, but in a decidedly playful manner. "You can tell he hasn't been loved, not like my Gabriel." Valini then tossed the bear onto his bed, grabbed his shower supplies, and sauntered out. But at the door he turned and repeated, "Don't touch; I'm warning you."

Irritating git. Draco yawned widely, dressed quickly, and climbed into bed, pulling the panther in with him. He pulled the curtains closed and snuggled into the thick blankets. The weather outside was relatively warm, but in the dungeons the nights always had a certain bite to them, no matter the temperature outside. Holding the warm body of the panther close, Draco felt himself drifting off.

"G'night, father," Draco murmured sleepily, even though he was reasonably sure that Lucius could not hear him.

O~O~O~O~O

Lucius put the last of the albums away carefully, mildly surprised to realize that night had long since fallen. He should be hungry, having not eaten since breakfast, but he wasn't. He started to call Dibby to bring him something anyway, but then remembered that Draco was gone, and he no longer had to set an example. Lucius curled up in one of the plush, library chairs, ashamed of the fear that was welling up in him.

As much as he tried to tell himself that he was merely missing his son, he knew that he truly *needed* the boy. Draco was his reason for being; when he was home, Lucius knew exactly what he was supposed to do. But he wasn't there just then, and Lucius had to figure out how to get by without him.

He was a feared, respected, and powerful wizard; surely he could figure out how to get through a night alone in his own home? But whatever he knew, intellectually, to be true, Lucius was scared. He kept expecting Abraxas to come sweeping into the library, enraged that Lucius had dared to... well, whatever Lucius did, it had never really seemed to matter much. Abraxas had always been able to find some aspect of his conduct unacceptable. Lucius knew, looking back, that Abraxas had hurt him because he enjoyed it; but after years of Abraxas always making it out to be Lucius' fault, he found it difficult to break himself of the habit.

And there was much that was Lucius' fault; he knew that he would regret what he had done to Draco for the rest of his life, and perhaps beyond, if he became a ghost. Lucius sat stewing in these dark thought until he was startled by an owl alighting on the table next to him.

"Hades!" Lucius declared happily, ecstatic at the diversion, "What does Draco have to tell me?" After removing the letter, and sending Hades off to the owlery, Lucius opened it greedily; he treasured any kind word from his son. Lucius read the message several times over, smiling slightly. Draco had appreciated the present Lucius had hidden in his trunk. Of course, he may have only been saying that to make Lucius happy, but even that small kindness was more than Lucius had ever received from anyone else.

As long as Draco loved him, Lucius had a reason to live; Abraxas be damned. Finally having worked up the courage to climb out of that chair, Lucius slowly made his way back to his rooms, clutching the letter tightly. Lucius placed the letter on his nightstand, as a memento, but also as a reminder to reply to it in the morning. Lucius knew that he desperately needed to take a bath before going to bed, but as he entered the silent bathroom, he could feel the fear creeping up on him again.

He quickly turned on the taps, hoping that the sound of rushing water would be enough to fill the terrifying void, but it was not. He needed the sound of other human voices. "Dibby!" Lucius yelled suddenly; why hadn't he thought of this before?

"Yeses, master Lucius, sir?" the pathetic elf groveled. "Bring me a wizard wireless. There should be one in with Draco's baby things."

Most, if not all, of the music broadcast over the wizard wireless was trite and meaningless, but it had helped lull Draco to sleep as a baby. Lucius hoped it might do the same for him. Lucius did not undress until Dibby had returned with the sleek, black box (Draco had deserved the most expensive model, after all), not wanting to feel any more vulnerable than he already was.

Lucius snatched the wireless from the trembling elf and switched it on. He scanned through the different frequencies, finally settling on a collection of modern music. He wanted to hear voices; not just the instruments of classical music. Finally feeling safer, Lucius undressed and sank into the bathtub. He did feel better; as silly as it seemed.

Lucius washed his hair thoroughly, and swam a few laps around the tub, letting the inane chatter of the announcer drown out the threats of Abraxas. When he was finally clean, Lucius dried off and changed into a sleeping gown, carrying the wireless with him to bed. Perhaps he could actually get some sleep this night. But before he climbed under the covers, he walked over to his wardrobe and pulled out a most unusual object.

When Lucius had commissioned the stuffed panther for Draco, he had had also requested another animal. The craftswitch had thought that both were for his child (though she did not know that Draco was fifteen), but Lucius had always intended the second animal for himself. He had known that he, also, would have trouble sleeping alone, and therefore, he had had a white, silver, and gold dragon made to match the panther.

The scaly material that made up the bulk of its sleek body was deceptively soft, and it also had a glorious mane of white-blond hair. It was wingless, and, all in all, looked very Eastern. Just like the panther, it was charmed to give off heat and wake Lucius from any nightmares. Lucius held it close; if he could not have his precious with him, he was going to have his namesake, no matter how childish it might seem to others.

Lucius, of course, would be mortified it anyone found out that he was intending on sleeping with a stuffed dragon, but with the threat of Abraxas looming, Lucius really couldn't give a damn. Lucius climbed into bed, the dragon held tightly in his arms. Between its comforting warmth and the music of the wireless, he worked up the courage to close his eyes from time to time. But despite all these comforts, Lucius did not actually relax enough to sleep until after the first streaks of daylight became visible over the horizon.

* End Chapter 2 *


	3. Nightmares

Disclaimer: They're not mine. You knew that.

My Angel is a Dragon, My Devil is a Snake

-Catspook

Chapter 3: Nightmares

It was noon before Draco managed to drag himself up to the Great Hall. He scowled menacingly when he spotted the Dream Team at, of all places, the Slytherin table. They were chatting with Valini. Potter was leaning heavily against the tanned boy, looking exhausted.

"... I do love him, but, *honestly*, he doesn't sleep! All summer, he kept me up past two in the morning. And trying to find time to do homework...it was practically impossible!" Potter whined.

Granger frowned, "Well, that's unacceptable. He's a *professor*; he should know better."

"Oh, come on," Weasley rolled his eyes, "Sirius was just having fun, 'Mione. It's not all about studying, you know."

Valini frowned thoughtfully, "Studying aside, Love, you need to get more sleep. You've got to tell him when it's too much."

"Yeah," Potter mumbled into Valini's shoulder.

Draco figured that was as good a time as any to make his entrance. "What are *you* doing at our table?"

"They're my guests," Valini replied, matter-of-factly.

"That can't be allowed," Draco sneered.

"Yes it is; I made a point of asking professor Dumbledore last year. You can sit at another house's table if you're someone's guest."

Draco frowned, but sat - far away from them - without comment. He scowled darkly as he helped himself to some breakfast (or was it lunch?) and strained to hear every word they said. He was rather vexed, therefore, when Millicent came lumbering in and sat in between him and the intruders. He glared at her, and she bowed her head shyly. She moved to get back up, but he made a subtle negating motion with is hand; if she moved it would attract the Gryffindorks' attention.

Amazingly, she deciphered his signal and settled back down, sending him a confused look. Unlike Crabbe and Goyle, however, she had the good sense to keep her mouth shut and otherwise act as if nothing was out of the ordinary; the Dream Team continued chatting, oblivious to Draco's eavesdropping. Millicent kept glancing at Draco all throughout the meal, but did not speak to him. Draco tried to decide what his next move should be with her; would it be better to be subtle or straightforward?

Draco was distracted from these thoughts, however, when Hades came soaring into the Great Hall with not only a letter, but a sizable package as well. Draco pushed his plate aside and greeted Hades affectionately, feeding him bits of bacon. Draco removed the letter and package, careful not to appear too eager. He didn't want people to know how much he missed his father; they would only use it to mock him.

The letter was shorter than Draco had expected, carefully crafted to not give anything important away, should anyone have had the gall to glance at it over Draco's shoulder.

_Draco, _

_I hope you had a restful night. I'm glad to hear that you are looking into making some new friends; Miss Bulstrode may prove invaluable to you in the future. I've sent you some sweets. Share them as you like, but I made a point of including chocolate frogs; I know they are your favorite. Study hard, and contact me if any problems arise. _

_~Father_

Draco frowned at the chocolate frog comment; he did like chocolate frogs, but he didn't like being told what to eat. He also pouted a bit when he saw that Lucius hadn't signed the letter 'love', but then he realized that he was being childish. He knew his father loved him; only babies had to be reminded of it all the time.

Draco opened the package efficiently, glad for the chance to gloat to Weasley. He smirked at the redhead as he tore into a chocolate frog, but nearly choked on the candy when he saw what card he'd gotten.

_Bartimus Crouch jr. - 'Barty' Crouch jr. is distinguished as the first wizard ever on record to escape from Azkaban prison. Convicted of being a Death Eater..._ Draco didn't bother reading the rest.

He felt sick, his hands were trembling, and if there hadn't been so many people around he would have screamed. The photo of Crouch was of a face that Draco didn't know (he had always appeared as 'Mad Eye' Moody to Draco), but he was grinning at Draco in a feral way that the boy recognized all too well. The dark wizard winked at Draco lecherously, and Draco dropped the card, shaking with terror. Draco grabbed his letter and package and practically bolted out of the Great Hall.

He remembered to grab the card at the last second, unwilling to let others see who had the power to scare him so - he was sure that everyone in the Great Hall had been staring at him and knew exactly what he had been feeling. When he got back to the Slytherin common room, Draco tossed the card into the ever-present fire, and watched it burn with a grim satisfaction. He then sat on the couch and systematically opened every chocolate frog box his father had sent, looking for any more cards of Crouch. There were none. Badly shaken, Draco returned to his dorm, tossed the package into his trunk and climbed back into bed. He yanked the bed curtains shut and grabbed the stuffed panther, huddling under the blankets with it. He refused to cry.

O~O~O~O~O

Lucius was exhausted. He had fallen asleep at dawn, only to suffer a nightmare of Abraxas so distressing that he activated the chill charms on the stuffed dragon. He had been too terrified to try to sleep more, and instead had busied himself crafting a reply to Draco's note. He'd then ventured down to the kitchens looking for sweets to send with the letter.

He could have ordered Dibby to do it, but Lucius now had nothing but time on his hands. Besides, it was amusing watching the kitchen elves tremble at their master's unexpected presence. Pathetic things, really, Lucius had every right to despise them.

With the letter and package sent (not too early; Draco needed his sleep) Lucius once again had nothing to occupy him. He forced himself to eat a light lunch. He really hadn't felt like it - he'd been feeling ill ever since he left King's Cross- but while he knew that one or two skipped meals would not matter, Draco would notice if Lucius lost a significant amount of weight. Draco did not deserve to be burdened with Lucius' problems on top of his own, and Lucius needed to set an example.

After lunch, Lucius was still too frightened to attempt to sleep. It was pathetic of him, he knew, to fear his own bed, but self-disgust did not outweigh the terror today. Lucius disappeared into his office. He attempted to practice some chess, but halfway through the game he forgot which set he was using and started snarling English instructions at the very confused French pieces. Frustrated, Lucius slapped the pieces onto the floor and collapsed against the back of his leather desk chair. He missed Draco desperately.

O~O~O~O~O

Draco returned to the Great Hall for dinner, steadfastly ignoring the buzz of gossip that sprang up as he entered. He glared at Valini when the tanned boy asked if he was all right. No one else made the inquiry.

Draco sat next to Millicent again, but made a point of not looking directly at her; he was too embarrassed. Fleeing the Great Hall like that had been very stupid, but having a panic attack in front of the whole school would have been worse. Millicent did not try to talk to Draco, which Draco truly appreciated.

Dinner was once again a somber affair, the only significant amount of friendly chatter coming from, as expected, Valini and the Dream Team. Several others joined in, including a couple of Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. Draco tried his best to ignore them, but it was difficult when he was positive that every whispered joke, every laugh shared by the motley crew was at his expense.

Draco wanted to leave as soon as possible and get away from everyone, but he had to find out when the next prefect meeting was. As odious as the task was, Draco forced himself to saunter up the Gryffindor table and demand of Valini, "Is there a prefects meeting tonight?"

"Yeah. Eight o'clock in the prefects lounge. You know where that is?"

"Of course."

Draco spun on his heel and marched out of the hall, sneering when Valini mockingly called out, "You're welcome!"

By the time he reached the Slytherin dorms, Draco had decided that the best way to pass the time before the meeting (and to avoid talking to anyone) was to write a long letter to his father. Lucius had asked him to write twice a week after all; he might as well do it now when it wouldn't interfere with his homework.

Draco dug out some parchment and a quill and stretched out on his bed, trying to think of what to write. Finally, he decided to just be honest and tell his father everything he was feeling. Lucius had demonstrated time and again over the spring and summer that he was always willing to listen to Draco, no matter how trivial seemed.

_Dear Father, _

_Thank you for the sweets. They've added some new cards to the chocolate frogs, did you know? They made one for Crouch jr. because he was the first person to escape from Azkaban. I thought that was in poor taste. I burned the card. _

_I miss you. Thank you again for the panther. Valini has the most disgusting, ragged teddy bear on his bed so I think it's safe for him to see me with the panther. I bet Potter has a stuffed lion on his bed; he probably suggested that Valini sleep with a teddy. _

_The Gryffindors are annoying as usual, and even more popular than ever. Everyone will be carrying teddies around with them soon. There are only two Slytherin first years so far this year. Xavier follows Valini around like that little Weasley did Potter second year. Maybe she'll send Valini a valentine to rival the 'his eyes are as green as pickled toad' song. He's smoother than Potter, though; he'll probably just shrug it off. He may be annoying, but there has to be some reason why Valini's in Slytherin. _

_Pygmalion seems all right. I'm lonely. I think Millicent could be a nice friend to have but I'm finding it difficult to speak to her. I always happen to see her when I'm not in the mood to talk, and she just backs off and doesn't try to talk to me. Not like you; you always push me to talk when something's wrong. I know I probably act like I hate it, but at least I know that you really want to hear it. _

_How do I know if I'm just burdening her with my own problems? With Crabbe and Goyle it was easy; they couldn't be burdened with problems they don't understand, which is just about all problems besides dinner, but I think Millicent is actually quite sensitive. I think she's lonely too. _

_I wonder how many more Slytherins are going to show up next week. I bet even more of them transferred out after the attack on the train; I'm sure that the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs will find some way to blame us for that. Never mind that you took out more Death Eaters than anyone. I know that this letter is rambling; I'm just writing down whatever comes into my head. I know you'll listen. _

_Are you all right? What are you doing now that you're not going to work anymore? I've asked you before and you never seem to know; that's not like you. Are you bored? I'm kind of bored right now, but that will change after classes start, I'm sure. Even without quidditch, I'm sure I'll be busy. I need to go to a prefects' meeting now. I'll write you again in a few days. _

_love, _

_Draco_

Draco didn't bother to reread the letter before he folded it up. He no longer felt compelled to screen every communication with his father; he trusted Lucius more than that now. Besides, he was in a hurry; if he left now he could get to the owlery and send the letter before the meeting.

O~O~O~O~O

Lucius jerked awake in his desk chair, without any memory of falling asleep. He was sure that he had been awakened by a nightmare about Abraxas, but the details were already fading, not that they really mattered much anyway.

The ill feeling that had plagued Lucius since the train station had only intensified during his nap. Come to think of it, that may have been what had wakened him. Lucius heaved himself out of his chair and staggered to the nearest bathroom as quickly as he could. He immediately dropped to his knees and vomited into the toilet. There wasn't much inside him to lose, but the dry heaves continued for what felt like hours. When they finally stopped, it felt like he had pulled a dozen muscles in his side, and he was shaking with chills. Lucius washed out his mouth with water from the sink and collapsed against the side of the marble bathtub.

Lucius did not know if he had the strength to make it back to his bedroom, not that he particularly deserved to be comfortable. With no one to intervene either way, Lucius gave up the struggle and lay down on bathroom floor. The cool, marble tiles against his cheek and hands were both soothing and painful at the same time. He did not bother contemplating how this could be.

Lucius didn't know why he felt so ill all of a sudden. He was hardly ever sick after Abraxas ' death, though he had often been ill before that. Lucius hoped that Draco hadn't taken ill; his health was fragile enough as it was, and it would be a lousy way to start the school year. Draco did not deserve that after all he had been through.

Lucius lay on the floor of the bathroom for what felt like hours, but it was hard to tell through the dizzying fog in his mind. After some time, Dibby timidly entered the bathroom and asked, "Is Master Lucius sir alright, sir?"

"That's none of your bloody business you insignificant slime," Lucius slurred, "Get out of here! Leave me alone!"

"Yeses, Master Lucius, sir," Dibby whimpered and disappeared.

Lucius utterly loathed house elves; his house elves in particular. They were whining, simpering things, useless in any critical situation. They could never go against orders, never think for themselves. The only house elf Lucius had ever heard of who had had the courage to go against his master's wishes was Dobby, and thus Lucius had grown hate him both the most and the least of any house elf.

Partially to spite Dibby (though he could not explain exactly how it would do so) Lucius pushed himself to his hands and knees. He tried to stand, but the wave of nausea that hit him was so intense that he was forced to crawl to his bedchambers. Well, it wasn't the first time, now was it? At least he knew Abraxas would not be following him this time, screaming insults and abuse, striking and cursing him for no particular reason except that Lucius was there and helpless and young and...

Lucius didn't realize he'd begun to cry until hot tears splashed into his trembling hand. When had everything gotten so out of control? By the time he reached the door to his bedroom, Lucius ached all over. He pushed open the door clumsily and dragged himself over the threshold. He kicked the door shut, and only made it halfway to the bed before his strength gave out completely.

Lucius collapsed onto his side and curled up into a tight ball. The thick, white carpet was far more comfortable than the bathroom tiles, but Lucius was barely aware of it. The feeling of sickness in his stomach, combined with the emotional pain he was in, had completely incapacitated him.

It occurred to him that he might die here. If not for Draco, Lucius would have welcomed an end to this pain. Well, if he couldn't let go of his life, he could let go of everything else. What was the point of keeping up appearances anymore? What was the point in trying to pretend that he was in control when he wasn't? There was no one there; Lucius was completely, utterly alone. No one knew, no one cared, what happened to Lucius in this house.

Lucius drew in a deep, ragged breath, then screamed as long and as loud as he could. When he'd expelled the last bit of air from his lungs, he panted wetly until he'd recovered enough to scream again. He screamed until his throat burned. He screamed until he was so light headed that he couldn't even feel the pain in his body or focus on the pain in his heart. When he couldn't scream anymore, he cried until oblivion overtook him.

O~O~O~O~O

The prefects' meeting was turning out to be worse than useless. Draco and Valini, and two other mudbloods were the only Slytherins there, and everyone seemed much more interested in how people had spent their summer holidays than the topics they were supposed to be discussing.

All except Granger, that is, who was acting so self important she was annoying everybody, especially Draco. "We're supposed to discuss when the first Hogsmeade weekend should be," Granger huffed. She was ignored.

Getting fed up with the chatter, Draco leaned back casually and drawled, "If you all are done gossiping, could we possibly be out of here before midnight?"

"Got a date, Malfoy?" Valini purred.

"What business is it of yours?" Draco snapped.

Valini shrugged, "None, just curious; you don't have to take it so personal. Besides, I *do* have a date, so I'd like to get out of here sooner rather than later as well." Valini leered at Potter, who looked scandalized.

Draco narrowed his eyes at Valini; for the life of him he could not figure out Valini's motives. He *seemed* sincere, but there had to be a reason he was sorted into Slytherin, and he had been so quiet and unassuming until recently. Yes, Draco would definitely have to keep an eye on Valini in the future.

O~O~O~O~O

When Lucius regained consciousness it was past midnight. He nearly panicked, thinking at first that Abraxas had locked him in the dungeons again, but then he realized that he was lying on a soft carpet and not hard stone.

"Lumos," Lucius croaked, and the candles in his bedchambers sprang to life. He still felt ill, but he thought he might be able to stand. Slowly, he rose to his knees and then stood, stumbling to the bathroom; he very much wanted to take a long, warm bath.

Lucius started the taps, undressing clumsily; his fingers didn't seem to be working properly. Finally, the last of his clothes fell to the floor, and he sat heavily on the side of the tub. He slid into the warm, soapy water and leaned back, closing his eyes. But almost instantly, they snapped open again as Lucius heard an unexpected creaking. He knew damn well that it was very unlikely to be anything other than the old house settling, but he couldn't quell the terror brewing in the pit of his stomach.

Loathe to call the house elves, he fumbled about for his wand and summoned the wizarding wireless from the bedroom. He set it on the side of the tub and switched it on, not caring what was being broadcast, only that he could fill this silence up with something. He breathed deeply, trying to slow the rapid pounding if his heart. He managed to convince himself that the wetness on his face was bath water and not tears.

Lucius climbed out of the bath when he started nodding off again, deciding that Draco would most likely be upset should Lucius drown. As Lucius dressed, the wireless started playing a song that sounded vaguely familiar to him. The song itself was irrelevant, what mattered were the memories that it seemed to be triggering, and Lucius bowed his head, trying to bring them into focus.

c~c~c~c~c

"Shhh, little one; it's time to sleep, shh..." Lucius was sitting in the antique, mahogany rocking chair next to Draco's crib trying to lull the nine-month-old infant to sleep.

As usual, Draco was fussy and restless, despite all Lucius' best efforts. The wizard wireless was playing, but tonight it didn't seem to be helping. "Oh, come on now, why won't you sleep? I've tried everything! Do you hate me? Is that it?"

Draco blinked at him with large, baby blue eyes, which were slowly fading to silver. He reached up and tugged playfully on Lucius' hair, giggling. Lucius couldn't help but smiling; Draco knew he had Lucius wrapped around his little finger and he knew it. Lucius looked at Draco sternly, "Draco, it's bed time; you have to go to sleep now."

Draco just grinned and tugged harder. Lucius frowned and carefully disentangled Draco's tiny fingers from his own, long hair. At the loss of his new toy, Draco's delicate nose wrinkled and Lucius could tell he was about to start crying. "Oh, please don't, my little dragon, don't cry; you'll just get all worked up, shh..."

But Draco didn't cry. Instead, he grabbed a new handful of Lucius hair and pulled hard on it. "Da!" he pouted angrily. Da? Lucius' gaped; Draco had just said his first word! "Yes!" Lucius laughed, "I'm Da!" Lucius bounced Draco joyfully while the baby laughed and clapped his hands happily. "Da! Da!"

c~c~c~c~c

Lucius picked up the wireless and carried it into the bedroom, smiling sadly; he missed his precious son. He was glad, therefore, to see Hades perched on his headboard with a letter from Draco. Lucius untied the letter and sent Hades off to the owlery.

Lucius opened the parchment greedily, but nearly dropped the letter in shock when he read the first paragraph. They made chocolate frog cards of Crouch! What were they thinking? Were they going to make cards of Riddle too? Lucius felt terribly guilty; he'd wanted to surprise Draco with some of his favorite sweets and ended up sending him a reminder of the man who had hurt him so. Draco must be so upset! He did not say as much in his letter, but Draco usually was completely unwilling to talk about Crouch.

Lucius took a deep breath before he finished reading the letter. He sighed sadly when Draco said he was lonely. Lucius wanted everything for Draco; he wanted to protect him, and the fact that he could not was driving him mad. Lucius dug parchment, ink, and a quill out of the drawer of his nightstand. He braced the parchment against a random book that had been lying about and struggled to think of what to say.

_Draco, _

_I am so sorry that I sent you that card. I would never have sent frogs if I had known they had made a card of that monster. Are you all right? If at any time you wish to come home, just say the word and I'll be there. I love you; never forget that. _

_I am sorry that your friendship with Millicent has not been progressing as you had hoped, but if she truly is as sensitive as you say, a bit of patience will probably work wonders with her. Are there any others you might care to make connections with? I know that Pygmalion child is probably a bit young to provide the kind of connection you are likely interested in, what about some of the older students? When the rest of the students arrive next week I'm sure you'll have many options open to you. _

_I'm glad you made use of the panther; I know you think me overprotective but I do worry about how you sleep so far away from home. If it gets to be a problem, owl me or go see the nurse; I won't have you falling ill due to lack of sleep. Ignore the Gryffindors. They are beneath your notice. If they bother you, either owl me or go to Severus and Severus alone; if there was anything I learned in my seven years at Hogwarts it is that those arrogant muggle-lovers can do no wrong in the eyes of most of the faculty. _

_I miss you as well, my precious son. Without your presence the manor is considerably darker and more tedious. I am a fool not to have realized before how much joy you bring to this place. _

Lucius frowned then magically erased that last sentence. It was completely true, but Draco was not overly fond of that type of syrupy sentiment.

_I appreciate your concern, but I assure you that boredom is the furthest thing from my mind. _

Lucius frowned again; that sentence was technically true, but he did not like misleading his son. But Draco did not deserve to be saddled with Lucius' problems. It was touching, but also disturbing, that Draco had noticed that Lucius was not acting exactly in character lately. Lucius would have to be careful in the future not to give Draco any reason to suspect that anything was wrong.

_I am grateful for the freedom to choose my own schedule at the moment; frankly I consider not returning to work when I care not to as one of those luxuries that the Malfoy fortune allows us. The same will apply to you after you graduate. The hour is late, so I will say good night to you. Remember that I love you, and you can always come to me with any problem. Take care of yourself. _

_Love, _

_Father_

Lucius decided to let Hades rest; he would send the letter in the morning with specific instructions that it be delivered to the dorm and not the Great Hall. This letter was no one's business but his and Draco's. Lucius placed the letter on the nightstand and returned all the writing supplies to their proper places. He still felt ill and exhausted, and writing the letter had taken his last bit of energy. Even so, he did not know if he would be able to sleep. He huddled under the covers with the stuffed dragon, regretting that he did not have his real dragon with him.

* End Chapter 3 *


	4. Friends and Flashbacks

Old Author's Note (Abridged): I think that's it for now, except to warn you: THE VIOLENT FLASHBACKS BEGIN IN THIS CHAPTER; if you can't handle them, then skip them or go away. That's all.

Disclaimer: They're not mine. You knew that.

My Angel is a Dragon, My Devil is a Snake

-Catspook

Chapter 4: Friends and Flashbacks

c~c~c~c~c

"You stupid, useless, little whore! What did I tell you about how to behave towards your betters? You offended my friend!"

"But, father-"

"Don't you speak to me you lying piece of filth! You are pathetic! Can't you do anything right? I give you every advantage and still you can't manage to do the simplest task properly!"

Eight-year-old Lucius bowed his head submissively in the way he knew his father liked. "I'm sorry," he said, trying to sound sincere. He was terrified of what Abraxas was planning to do to him, but he was not sorry for saying no when McNair sr. had started groping him during his mother's dinner party. Abraxas had never told him that 'being nice' to his friends involved letting then do *that*. Furthermore, Abraxas had told Lucius many times that he was not supposed to let others touch him like that; he belonged to Abraxas and Abraxas alone.

Lucius gasped but did not flinch when Abraxas grabbed a fistful of Lucius' hair and forced the boy to look at him. "You're not half as sorry as you will be, you insignificant, little worm," Abraxas snarled. The older wizard then dragged Lucius down the hall by his hair. Lucius stumbled, trying to regain his footing; it felt like Abraxas was pulling out every hair on his head! Lucius knew what was coming; it had happened often enough. He was terrified; he didn't want this to happen! But he knew that fighting Abraxas was only going to make him even more enraged.

Please, someone, help me, Lucius begged silently, though he knew full well that no one was going to come to his aid. When they reached the dungeons, Abraxas tossed Lucius into a cell and forced his small writs into the heavy, iron shackles.

"I am going to talk to my friend now, and you will *not* refuse him a second time. You are mine and I will give you to whomever I like. You will obey me or I will kill you; you are nothing to me. Remember that." Lucius then tensed as he felt the tip of Abraxas' wand on the back of his neck. "Crucio," Abraxas hissed, and the pain was all Lucius could think about for the next few minutes.

Lucius could tell that Abraxas had just walked away, as the spell lost intensity gradually instead of ending suddenly. If the curse ended quickly it meant that Abraxas had removed it. If it faded gradually it simply meant that there was an increasing physical distance between Abraxas and himself; Lucius had a great deal of experience in these matters. He leaned his forehead against the wet, slimy, stone wall of his cell. Isn't there anyone who can protect me from Him?

c~c~c~c~c

Lucius awoke, panting, the stuffed dragon like ice in his arms. "Thermos," he sighed, disgusted to realize that he was becoming so dependent on a stuffed animal. He only hoped that Draco was not getting as much use out of the panther.

The announcer on the wizard wireless cheerfully declared that it was a quarter past four in the morning. Lucius let his head fall back onto the pillow, unconsciously hugging the dragon closer to him. Could he not get more than two continuous hours of sleep? He needed to rest; he knew he did, but every nightmare made him even more afraid of closing his eyes. The ill feeling in his stomach had only intensified, and it was an effort for him not to be physically sick.

It finally occurred to Lucius that he should take a potion to get rid of this illness, but he didn't have the energy to shout for Dibby. Besides, he rather believed that he deserved to suffer; he certainly had inflicted much worse torments on Draco in the past.

Lucius let his body go limp and his mind wander. It was simply too much of an effort to do anything, to focus on any thought. Of course, he could think about his son for hours, but it was becoming very painful to do so; whenever he thought of him now, Lucius invariably began to think about how he had hurt him so badly in the past.

Lucius lay in bed, unmoving, his mind blank, and his emotions numbed and jumbled together, for hours. Not that he was keeping track; it could have been ten minutes or ten days before Hades came swooping down on him. Lucius almost smiled at the owl; he didn't think he would have had the energy to make it to the owlery and back, and he would have been loathe to let those disgusting house elves touch the letter he had written to his son.

Lucius tied the letter to Hades' leg, ordering him to take it to the dorms instead of the Great Hall. Lucius then collapsed against the pillows, entirely drained. Why was he so exhausted? Lucius held the dragon closer, finding it difficult to remember why that was supposed to be shameful. He began to drift off, aware of the daylight creeping across his bedroom, though he could not remember exactly why that was important either.

O~O~O~O~O

Lucius spent the next three days not moving from his bed except for the occasional visit to lav when the nausea got to be too severe. No matter how long he slept - and in the daylight he managed to sleep a great deal – he felt totally drained.

The nightmares kept coming several times a day despite all attempts Lucius made to stop them. He even considered taking some Dreamless Sleep potion, but he had gotten addicted to it before; while he could handle the occasional half dose in very specific situations, he knew that taking it now would be too much of a temptation. How would he explain to Draco that he had become an addict not once but twice?

Sometimes, Lucius would wake to find that Dibby had left a glass of pumpkin juice and some bread or fruit in his nightstand. He couldn't work up the energy to be angry at her presumptuousness. He occasionally even had the inclination and strength to sit up and take a few sips, but most of the time he spent hovering on the edge of consciousness, trying not to think about anything in particular.

But this routine was interrupted, and the haze over Lucius' mind lifted somewhat, when Hades came flying into Lucius' bedroom with a letter from Draco. Lucius opened it like a starving man would a parcel of food and devoured the message with his eyes. No matter what happened, as long as Draco was happy, Lucius could live with himself.

_Dear Father, _

_Are you sure you're all right? It seems like you aren't telling me everything. I want to know how you're doing; please don't lie to me.'_

Draco was entirely too observant for his own good; Lucius really had to work harder at concealing his problems from him. He did not want to lie to Draco, but Lucius had to protect him from Abraxas.

_That aside, thank you for replying so quickly to my letter; I knew you would listen. Classes have been okay so far. Potions was great! When professor Snape pointed out that I came out on top of our year, Granger started arguing with him, and he took twenty points off Gryffindor for arguing, and fifty more when Weasley tried to hex me. Potter actually got mad at Weasley for losing the points and they had a huge argument right in the middle of class. Snape took twenty-five points from each of them (He probably would have taken more, but Potter was defending me, saying it wasn't my fault; can you imagine?) and gave them both two weeks detention._

_All of the Gryffindors are now angry with the three of them (less so Potter; it was Weasley's hex after all). Maybe they will all come to their senses and realize that Weasley is an immature, little weasel. Probably not; we are talking about Gryffindors here. _

_Sirius Black is the new DADA teacher (I forgot to tell you that in my last letter, didn't I?). He's horrible! He acts more like a student than a professor, and he blatantly favors the Gryffindors. I'd even have preferred to have the werewolf back; at least he knew what he was talking about and knew how to organize a lesson. Black also pulls pranks on the students he doesn't like; he hasn't done anything to me yet, but I'm keeping an eye out for it. _

_Valini has made muggle stuff really popular; it's driving me insane. He's always playing muggle music from a recorb in the Slytherin common room. He wears muggle clothes on the weekend as well; almost everyone does now. _

_He plays 'films' on the ceiling of the Great Hall on Thursday nights (films are, according to Millicent, like a cross between portraits and plays). He told me that if I wanted to see what some muggles think about witches and wizards I should go next Thursday; he is apparently playing 'The Sword in the Stone'. I must admit I'm rather curious, but to watch something that was made by muggles? Surely is will be horrible. Would it be all right if I did go, just to see how horrible it is?_

_Things are going all right with Millicent. I found her sitting alone out by the quidditch pitch yesterday (I was going to go out flying for a bit). We talked a bit about classes and things, and I volunteered to help her with her potions homework; she's a lot smarter than Crabbe or Goyle, but she does have a bit of trouble with the harder subjects. She said that Blaise volunteered to help her, but she said he was too 'hyper' for her. He's always bouncing around, and he never stops singing; he is so annoying! _

_Being a prefect is okay. The prefects' bathroom is great (but you were a prefect, so you knew that already), but working with the other prefects can really be a pain. Nothing ever gets done at the meetings; everybody is always too busy gossiping. Granger, of course, goes the other way; she is always pushing to get things done, and acting like a self-righteous twit. Most of the other prefects are really starting to avoid her; it serves her right, really. _

_I'm doing a bit better, now, I think. I still miss you, but I feel less... afraid, you know? People aren't being as nosy about why I left in the middle of last term as I thought they would be. I'm going to stop now, because talking about this is making me sad, and it's almost dinner, anyway. I'll write you again in a few days. _

_love, _

_Draco_

From paragraph to paragraph, Lucius responded strongly to the changes in the mood of the letter. After three days of fatigue-dulled feelings, he was finding the intensity of the emotions especially painful. But it was still better than being without a sense of purpose. He could not seem to work up the energy to care about his own welfare; only Draco seemed to be able to hold his interest. Even so, he had to rest a bit before writing a reply.

_Draco, _

_I am glad that you are feeling better now, but don't feel as if you need to avoid what happened. If at any time you feel like having difficulties, owl me. And please remember that if you want to come home, I will come get you at any time, day or night. _

_I was greatly vexed - if not particularly surprised - to discover the identity of your new DADA teacher. If Black bothers you, definitely come to me immediately. I'm sure that Severus would be willing to help you, but Dumbledore has proven time and again that he will take Black's side in any disagreement, no matter how strong the evidence against Black or severe the consequences._

Lucius hoped that his wording was strong enough to get his message across; he really did not want to have to explain to Draco that Black had almost gotten away with murdering Severus in school. Black had always had a particular loathing for Severus, and Lucius did not want Draco to be caught in the middle of it.

_If you would truly like to watch Valini's 'film', then go. I am not thrilled by the idea of you embracing muggle culture, but I don't think that one 'film', as you call it, will corrupt you; I have know you for fifteen years, and I know that you are much too stubborn for that. _

_I am glad to hear that your association with Millicent is progressing well. I never did like the Crabbes or the Goyles all that much; brute force has its uses, but I'd much prefer you to have a friend with a mind. If you are happy with your relationship with Millicent, then I am happy for you. _

_I miss you as well, my precious._

Now for the most difficult part; Lucius had to respond to Draco's inquiries about how he was and what he was doing without making him worry or outright lying to him_. _

_I appreciate your concerns for my well-being, but I assure you that you do not need to worry about me. I am getting a lot of rest; I am thinking of it as an extended holiday._

Well, that was technically true; he wasn't working. Reading over what he had written, he decided that he had best end the letter now, before he managed to say something that would cause Draco to worry. Not to mention that the effort of writing and concentrating so intently on his phrasing was making Lucius very light-headed.

_Remember to take care of yourself, and write me as often as you feel the need. _

_Love, _

_Father_

It took the last bit of Lucius' energy to fold and address the letter and attach it to Hades' leg. He barely remembered to remind to owl to deliver the letter to Draco's dorm and not the Great Hall before fading into unconsciousness.

O~O~O~O~O

Draco was convinced that the professors had gone mad. It was only two and a half weeks into the term and they were already railing about the OWL's. Granger was positively giddy whenever a professor declared, 'this will most likely be on your OWL's', but almost everybody else groaned. Draco was glad that he had quit quidditch; he'd never be able to manage it on top of being a prefect and maintaining such high grades.

Happily, Draco was discovering that helping Millicent review was also helping him to understand the material better. Things with Millicent were certainly progressing nicely. She was much better company than Crabbe and Goyle had ever been, and she wasn't in love with Valini and Potter like the rest of the school seemed to be. Most of the time it seemed like it was Draco and Millicent against the rest of the student body, though Draco had never figured out why Millicent had never latched onto Valini like the rest of the remaining Slytherins had. He really ought to ask her sometime.

At the moment, Draco was on his way to meet her down by the lake. The weather had been beautifully cool and mildly cloudy this past week, and after so much time confined indoors last spring and much of last summer, Draco tried to find time to go outside whenever he could.

Draco was bringing some of the sweets his father had sent him to share with his new friend; he was also bringing along his history book in case Millicent wanted to go over what Binns had been droning on about in class that morning. When Draco got to the lake, Millicent was already there, waiting for him.

"Hi, Draco," she smiled shyly.

"Hello, Millicent," Draco smiled back. "Would you like to go over history a bit?"

Millicent shrugged. "If you want. I'm bloody sick of studying," she growled, chucking a rock into the lake. She had quite an arm on her.

"You should try out for quidditch this weekend. I bet you'd be a great beater, and they need seven new players this year."

Millicent threw another rock. "That's what Hill and Valini said, but I don't have a broom."

Draco sat comfortably on a large boulder and replied, "I'm sure your parents would buy you one if you made the team; I know they have money."

"Oh, they have the money all right, but they would never spend that much on me," Millicent sighed. She looked miserable.

"Why not?" Draco asked, concerned.

Millicent glanced at him, as if she was not sure whether she should explain further. Finally, she continued, "My parents don't like me."

"What? How could they not like you?"

Millicent smiled slightly, but also snorted in disgust, "Look at me; I'm not exactly any parent's 'little princess'."

"They don't like you because you aren't pretty?" Draco questioned, disbelieving.

Millicent shrugged. "That's part of it, anyway. My dad, you see, is a quarter ogre, but my mum is really pretty and refined. My older sister is just like her: beautiful, smart, and talented. She was head girl with Bill Weasley, and now she is an assistant to the British wizard ambassador in Germany. My parents were so relived that she wasn't like my dad. I was sort of an accident. My parents would have been okay with it if I was like Angelina, but as you can see, I'm not."

Draco thought for a moment, contemplating his own relationship (or lack there of) with his mother. He looked at Millicent and said, sincerely, "I'm sorry."

Millicent smiled the tiniest bit. "Thanks."

"Um... would you like some sweets? My father always sends too much."

Millicent drew her thick, brown eyebrows together. "Your father? I thought your mother was the one who sent you sweets."

Draco flushed and looked at the ground. He had told people that because...well, he had liked to pretend that his mother actually cared enough about him to think of sending him sweets. That was also why had told people that the reason he didn't go to Durmstrang was because his mother wanted him to stay closer to home; the truth was that his father had wanted him to go to the same school that Malfoys had gone to for centuries.

"Draco? Are you all right?" Draco flushed, realizing that he had been staring at the ground for too long.

"I'm fine. My parents divorced last year; my mother lives in France now."

"Oh, that's right! I'm sorry, I forgot that that was in the papers; I'm really sorry."

Draco glanced at her; she looked genuinely sorry. "It's okay. My mother never did send me sweets, I just wanted people to think that she did."

Millicent sat next to him on the moss-covered boulder, "Why?"

Should he tell her? He would be leaving himself vulnerable to her, and he was afraid. But she had already opened herself up to him, and wasn't this what one was supposed to do with friends? He'd wanted to be her friend, after all. "She... she never really cared for me, I think. The only times she ever did anything for me was when I was little: she dressed me up for parties. When I turned ten, Father said I was too old for it, and she never seemed interested in me after that. I didn't want people to know that."

"But why wouldn't she be interested in you? You're perfect."

"What?" Draco looked at Millicent wide-eyed; she thought he was perfect? Despite himself, Draco blushed (and considering how pale he was, when he blushed it was very noticeable). "You think I'm perfect?"

Millicent shrugged. "Well, yeah. You're handsome, popular, smart, and you're a good quidditch player..."

"I've never beaten Potter," Draco growled.

"Well, yeah, but Potter's even better than Krum, and Krum is one of the best seekers in the world."

"Yeah, I guess. I don't like playing much anyway; I prefer just flying around. Hey, why don't you try out with my broom? It's far better than the Weasleys' brooms. I still think you'd make a great beater."

Millicent gaped at him. "You... you'd lend me your broom?"

Draco grinned, "Of course; you need a broom, and the team needs you."

"But... your broom is really expensive."

"So? The beaters' brooms hardly ever get damaged, and father would buy me a new one if something happened to it. Besides, I bet your parents would buy you one if you got on the team. I mean, wouldn't they be happy if you became a quidditch star?"

"A star? I could never be a star; Hill is going to be a beater too, and she is almost as talented as Potter. The only reason she wasn't on the team before was because Flint didn't want any girls on his team. Plus I think he might have suspected she was a muggle-born."

Fiona 'Flare' Hill was the daughter of Constance Lynda Hill, the muggle who had amazed the wizarding world by incapacitating over a dozen Death Eaters using muggle 'martial arts' during the attack on the Hogwarts Express. Professor Snape had appointed Hill team captain a week ago.

"You never know how good you are going to be until you practice on a decent broom." Draco offered, but then he thought he had said the wrong thing when Millicent started to cry. "Millicent? Are you okay, did I say something wrong? I'm sorry..."

Millicent shook her head, "No... no, It's okay. It's just, no one has ever been this nice to me before."

Draco was glad that he hadn't upset her, but he was kind of embarrassed, and he was sad for her also. Draco had never really had friends that cared for him very much, but at least his father loved him.

"Um... are you sure you're all right?" Millicent nodded, wiping her tears away with her large, thick fingers. It was true that she wasn't very pretty or feminine, or even very smart, but she was nice, and it really wasn't fair that her parents treated her like that. "Why don't I go get my broom and we can go practice at the Quidditch pitch. All right?"

Millicent nodded and smiled tearily. "Thanks."

"Well, that's what friends are for, aren't they?"

O~O~O~O~O

c~c~c~c~c

"You pathetic, little whore! I should kill you! You are not fit to carry on the Malfoy name!" Abraxas bodily threw Lucius against a barrister bookcase, shattering two of the panels and sending a rain of glass shards over Lucius' trembling form...

c~c

"Look what I found in the gardens, Daddy! Can I keep him?" Draco held a large, slimy, black toad in his little hands, his big, silver eyes adorably wide, yet calculating; he knew Lucius couldn't resist that look...

c~c

"Quidditch? You think you should be flying about on a broomstick, your robes flapping about you like some bint's dress caught in draft? You little idiot, you want to disgrace the Malfoy name flitting about like a pixie! Brooms are tools, not toys, and I will make sure you remember that!" Abraxas pulled his traveling broom out of the closet in his office, pinned Lucius against the wall, lifted the hem of his robe, and...

c~c

Draco pushed a carefully wrapped box into Lucius' hands and said quietly, "Happy Christmas, father. I hope you like it, I spent a month looking for it..."

c~c

Abraxas glided up and down his office like a dementor. "She is acceptable, which makes me wonder why she would have anything to do with you. I am allowing this because the Malfoy line must continue, but before you give her the ring, I am going to remind you who you really belong to..."

c~c

"Hello, father. How was your trip?" Draco smiled at Lucius and shook his hand firmly, like Lucius had taught him to. He then grinned, still very much a young boy. "Did you bring me a present?"

c~c~c~c~c

Lucius had no idea what day it was. It seemed as if he had been hovering on the edge of consciousness and unconsciousness, life and death, pain and numbness, for years. The occasional, rational, intact thoughts were often lost in a sea of fractured images and partial memories.

The thoughts that did manage to catch and keep Lucius' attention all centered on one of two people: Abraxas or Draco. The memories of Abraxas were getting worse, and they were the reason that Lucius often didn't want to think clearly; the pain was simply too intense. Lucius' memories of Draco, however, shone like stars in his mind; he clung to them desperately.

The only times Lucius ever emerged from this fog was when a letter arrived from his precious son; Draco was the only reason he didn't let himself drift away completely. Lucius sometimes felt like Abraxas and Draco were at war inside him; the winner would gain possession of Lucius' soul.

Lucius felt completely powerless; sometimes he would rail against his memories of Abraxas, usually with the belief that he could never succeed. Sometimes, he would just lie passively and let the pain wash over him; Abraxas had always become even more dangerous if Lucius tried to fight back. Sometimes, Lucius would focus all his energy into holding onto images of Draco until the sting of some past injury he had inflicted on his precious son would force him to let go. Sometimes he let his memories Draco drift away because he knew that he wasn't worthy of such beautiful, perfect creature, and sometimes he simply didn't have the energy to hold on to them any more.

Occasionally, Lucius was vaguely aware of cool water, hot soup, or tangy potions passing through his lips, but he never speculated at the source; he simply did not care. He did, however, care that Hades had just come soaring into his bedroom.

"Hades," Lucius croaked, in a voice that he no longer recognized as his own. Hades hooted, alighting on the headboard, and held out a leg. Lucius untied the letter with fingers trembling from fatigue. Lucius waved Hades off to the owlery and opened the letter.

_Dear Father, _

_How are you? The last few days have been really great. I lent Millicent my broom so that she could try out for the Slytherin Quidditch team, and she got on; she's an excellent beater. I watched the try-outs, and even though we are going to have all new players, we might still have a chance against Gryffindor, and Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw haven't got a chance. _

_At the last prefects' meeting, we decided that the first Hogsmeade weekend will be October 21st. If you aren't busy, maybe you can meet meat the Three Broomsticks. I'd like to see you..."_ Lucius didn't finish the rest of the letter.

Draco wanted to see him! Lucius was elated, but how was he going to manage to get to the Three Broomsticks in the condition he was in?

"Dibby!" Lucius yelled as loud as he could.

"Yeses, Master Lucius sir?" the trembling elf groveled.

"What is the date?"

"The date is being October 5th, Master Lucius sir." That meant that Lucius had a little over two weeks to pull himself together. He suddenly remembered that hadn't bathed for quite some time. It was an enormous effort for Lucius to climb out of bed. He staggered to the bathroom, aware that he was weaving erratically like a drunkard...

c~c~c~c~c

Abraxas ' breath reeked of the firewhiskey he had been drinking all night. "You're going to remember who you belong to while you're at Hogwarts. You're going to feel this until Christmas, you little whore...

c~c~c~c~c

Lucius collapsed against the doorframe, panting and sweating as if he had run a mile. He waited for the memory to subside before stumbling to the sink. As he bent to splash some water on his face, he caught a glance of himself in the mirror. He froze; was that really him?

* End Chapter 4 *


	5. Broken

Old Author's Note (Abridged): For those of you who asked: yes, Voldemort did kill Abraxas. Also, I'm warning all Sirius fans reading this that he goes of the deep end a bit in this chapter, but he and Harry will reconcile eventually.

Disclaimer: They're not mine. You knew that.

My Angel is a Dragon, My Devil is a Snake

-Catspook

Chapter 5: Broken

Was that really him? Lucius stared at his reflection, shocked by what he saw. His long, pale hair was a matted mess, his silver eyes puffy and bloodshot. Lucius unbuttoned his dressing gown with shaking fingers and let it fall to the floor. He ran his fingers down his bare side, appalled that his smooth, defined abdominal muscles had disappeared, leaving his ribs and hip bones exposed under a thin layer of nearly transparent skin. Lucius hung his head, overwhelmed with guilt; he had set such a bad example for his son.

Suddenly dizzy, Lucius staggered over to the edge of the tub and sat heavily. He stopped to catch his breath, dismayed to realize that he had left the wizard wireless in his bedroom. He started to call for Dibby, but realized how terribly weak it was to depend on that silly device even in broad daylight. He needed to learn how to live without it; if he could not manage to take a simple bath by himself, how was he going to manage to make it to Hogsmeade, let alone Diagon alley when it came time to buy Draco's Yule gifts?

Lucius started the taps, grateful for the sound of running water. He slid into the tub, but lacked the energy to lift a hand and grab the soap. He splashed the water ineffectually, infinitely frustrated that even the simplest tasks were beyond him now. He felt so helpless, pathetic, disgusting.

He tried to drag his fingers through his hair, but they got caught in the greasy tangles; he might even have to cut much of it off. Lucius soaked for a long time; he was simply too exhausted to do anything else. He dunked his head a few times, trying to wash his hair as best he could, but he could still feel the grime clinging to him.

As humiliating as it was, he decided that he had to call for Dibby to deal with his hair; Draco was suspicious as it was, and he would definitely start to wonder what was going on if Lucius showed up in Hogsmeade with short hair.

"Dibby!"

"Yeses, Master Lucius sir?"

"Fix my hair."

"Is Master Lucius sir wanting Dibby to fix sir's hair in the bathtub or in the bedroom, Master Lucius sir?" Lucius didn't know how to answer the question; he simply couldn't organize his thoughts. This was a simple question, why couldn't he handle it?

"Figure it out," he snarled to the feeble elf.

"Is Master Lucius sir wanting Dibby to wash sir's hair in the bathtub then brush sir's hair in the bedroom, Master Lucius sir?"

"Fine," Lucius sighed. He didn't even pay attention to the question; he didn't have the energy. Lucius relaxed against the side of the tub while Dibby did whatever it was that she was supposed to be doing.

Lucius had nearly dozed off when her squeaky, irritating voice piped, "Dibby is done washing Master Lucius sir's hair. Is Master Lucius sir wanting to be going into sir's bedroom, Master Lucius sir?"

"Yes," Lucius croaked. He heaved himself out of the tub, resting for a moment on the edge. The delay was long enough to set him shivering, and he was badly startled when he felt a towel drape itself over his shoulders. He whipped his head around and glared furiously at the cowering house-elf.

"Don't touch me, you disgusting creature," he hissed hatefully. The horrid thing's bulbous eyes watered up and it began wailing and pounding its head against the bathroom floor.

"Dibby is mostest sorry, Master Lucius sir. Dibby is bad, bad house elf-"

"Enough!" Lucius shouted.

The elf instantly froze, terrified. Lucius left her there as he reached for another towel that had not been contaminated by the house elf's filth, but he was overcome with such dizziness that he had to grab the towel rack to avoid falling. Dibby moved as if to help him, but Lucius recoiled and screamed, "DON'T TOUCH ME!"

Lucius did not know if he could make it back to his bed without help, but he could not stand to have Dibby touch him. Of course, she would have to touch him in order to fix his hair; what to do? He finally snarled, "Go take a bath, you vile thing, and change into a clean pillow case. I *won't* have you touching me like that."

"Yeses, Master Lucius sir. " And she popped away. Lucius used the opportunity to crawl back to his bed, after struggling into his dressing gown. The only way he could make it from the floor into the bed was to pull himself up using one of the black oak posts. He was disgusted with himself; how had he managed to let himself get into this condition?

Lucius curled up on his side, finally noticing that he had forgotten to dry off before dressing, and he was shivering.

c~c~c~c~c

"You pathetic, little whore! Only 94% in transfiguration!"

"But McGonagall-"

"Don't you talk back to me, you dog! You're good for nothing! You're a dog, and like a dog you belong outside! You're not fit to live in this house!" Abraxas then dragged Lucius to the front doors by his hair.

Lucius felt humiliated, but also warily relived. Getting sent outside was nothing compared many of Abraxas ' other punishments; Lucius was waiting for the other shoe to drop. The doors swung magically open, and Lucius saw that night had fallen, and it was raining. Abraxas shoved Lucius out into the rain with such force that Lucius fell, hitting his head on the top of the granite steps. He ignored the pain, blinking rain from his eyes. He caught a glance of Dibby inside the house, glancing, terrified, at him as she polished a silver vase.

"You're a dog!" Abraxas yelled, casting a curse Lucius did not recognize. Lucius gasped as the cold rain suddenly assaulted his entire body; Abraxas had made Lucius' clothes disappear.

"Dogs don't deserve clothes," Abraxas hissed poisonously, "You will be allowed back inside when *I* decide. And you will *earn* the privilege of clothes when you please me, you slut. Now get out of my sight!"

Lucius tried to stand, but Abraxas hit him with a crucio. Lucius focused on quelling his screams of pain; it would not do to enrage Abraxas further by showing weakness. When the curse was lifted, Abraxas snarled, "Dogs don't walk like men, you pathetic, little mongrel. Now get out of here, crawling like the slug you are."

Lucius rolled over and pushed himself onto his hands and knees. Slowly, with shaking arms and legs, he crawled down the steps. Abraxas sneered at him then slammed the door shut. Lucius heard him shout, "What are you looking at you disgusting creature! Crucio!"

Lucius kept crawling across the slick grass to the sound of Dibby's screams. He headed towards the woods. There were caves there where he could get out of the rain; he was so cold...

c~c~c~c~c

"Master! Master Lucius sir! Master-"

"What!" Lucius snarled.

"Is Master Lucius sir being all right, sir?"

"What do you think, you vile thing?"

"Dibby is mostest sorry, Master Lucius sir. Is Master Lucius sir wanting Dibby to fix Master's hair?" Lucius took a deep breath; when had he started to speak like Abraxas? Lucius glanced at Dibby; she was indeed clean, as was the pillowcase she was wearing.

Still shivering, Lucius rolled onto his stomach and replied, "Fix it, and don't you dare hurt me."

"Yeses, Master Lucius sir." Strange, she almost sounded... happy. "Is Master Lucius sir wanting Dibby to dry Master's hair, sir?"

Lucius frowned into the pillow; this was so humiliating. "And the rest of me," he muttered.

"Yeses, Master Lucius sir." With a snap of her fingers, Lucius was dry. He felt a light tugging as Dibby brushed out his long hair, but she wasn't hurting him. Lucius let himself doze off. Dibby couldn't hurt him; she didn't have the power to.

O~O~O~O~O

c~c~c~c~c

"Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaanh!"

"Here is your son, Mr. Malfoy. He's a bit small, but very healthy."

Lucius held his breath as the Mediwitch placed his son in his arms. Lucius could not believe that he had created such a beautiful, perfect child as this. But... "Is it normal for him to be screaming like that?"

The Mediwitch smiled, "That's just his way of communicating with you. He has a very healthy set of lungs." If no one had been watching, Lucius would have cried. His baby was perfect! But what to name him?

Lucius glanced at Narcissa, who was primping her sweat-dampened hair. "What do you think his name should be?" Lucius asked, rocking their crying baby.

"I don't care. I need a mirror..." Narcissa didn't even glance at him. Was the woman mad? How could she not be interested in her perfect son? Lucius kept rocking the baby, trying to think of a name. His little boy was still screaming.

Lucius smiled even wider; he certainly was a little spitfire, wasn't he? And there was the answer; Lucius had a weakness for dragons, and he adored the little boy in his arms. Unexpectedly, the mediwitch came bustling in, holding a quill and a piece of parchment.

"The birth certificate is all filled out, Mr. Malfoy, we just need to know his name."

"Draco," Lucius answered, "Draco Magni Malfoy."

c~c~c~c~c

Lucius smiled, reverently turning the pages of one of the many baby albums he had made of Draco. Looking back, it had been rather silly for him to take so many photographs of Draco as a newborn (all he really did was lie on his back, sleeping, crying, and occasionally sucking on his tiny, perfect, little thumb), but Lucius had not been able to help himself.

Lucius closed the album and returned it to its place on the shelf. For days Lucius had been trying to get himself into some semblance of his usual physical condition. After Dibby had forced the eighth bowl of soup on him, Lucius had begun to truly sympathize with what he had put Draco through last spring.

Unlike Draco, however, Lucius had also needed to force himself to exercise as much as he could stand. Today was the first day he had managed to walk all the way to the library without having to stop, and he had rewarded himself by looking through Draco's baby pictures.

But he had finished the album, and he knew that if he opened another he would end up spending all day looking through them. Not quite ready for the trek back to his bedchambers, Lucius sat in an overstuffed chair and gazed out the window. It was overcast, but not raining.

Lucius watched the ravens and crows flying about, more visible now that the trees were bare. Lucius didn't notice that he had dozed off until Dibby popped in, asking him what he wanted for lunch. Lucius told her that he didn't care as long as it wasn't soup. She looked at him strangely when he grinned for no apparent reason, then popped down to the kitchens. Lucius wondered what Draco was doing right now.

O~O~O~O~O

"Millicent, wait!" Draco panted as he chased Millicent towards the dungeons; she was in much better shape than he was.

"Leave me alone!" Millicent sobbed as she ran.

"No!" Draco was not going to leave her alone like this. Black, the bastard, had claimed Millicent as his most recent victim in his campaign of 'pranks' against certain Slytherin and Hufflepuff students. He had even made Cho Chang completely bald during dinner, because (according to rumor) she had spurned Potter last year when he had had a crush on her.

But what he had done to Millicent was unconscionable. He had had the Weasley twins design a spice that had caused Millicent's face to turn green and sprout warts in front of the entire school. Millicent, already insecure about her looks, had run out of the Great Hall, sobbing. Naturally, Draco had run after her.

When she reached the entrance to the Slytherin dorms, she was crying so hard that she could not say the password adequately. Finally, Draco managed to catch her. "Are... you... all... right?" he panted.

Millicent turned towards the wall, covering her face with her large hands. "Okay, that... was a stupid question... At least turn around so I can do a 'finite incantatum'."

Millicent only shook her head. Draco crossed his arms in a stubborn manner, "Well why the hell not? You want the curse over, don't you? And I doubt you can say the counter curse properly if you can't manage the password."

Millicent spun around, her hand in fists, "You bas-"

"Finite Incantatum!" Draco shouted, and Millicent's face went back to the way it had been. Millicent stopped cold and felt her face. But she wasn't as grateful to Draco as he thought she would be. She didn't hit him, but she did turn back around, burying her face in her hands.

"Well, what's the matter now? You look fine; I fixed it. I'll complain to my father, he'll get Black fired, we'll do something horrid to get back the Gryffindors, and everything will be fine." But Millicent still refused to look at him. "What? Are you mad because I tricked you? I was only trying to help."

"Just go away and leave me alone," Millicent sniffed.

"No. Not until you tell me why you won't look at me."

"Because I don't want you looking at me, all right!"

Draco frowned, "But why? All the curse marks are gone."

"Because I am ugly, and people like you don't hang out with people like me, so just stop pretending and LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE! Chinese fireball!" Millicent charged through the portrait hole, leaving Draco gaping after her.

"Well! If you can't believe me when I say you are my friend, then you can just stay all alone then! To Hell with you!" Draco then stormed back to the Great Hall, sitting back down roughly, pointedly ignoring the stares he was getting from most of the student body. Draco tried to return to his lunch, but he found that he didn't have an appetite anymore.

He pushed his plate away and headed back down towards the dungeons to grab his books then find somewhere he could write a letter to his father without anyone interrupting him. He finally settled on an empty classroom near the DADA room that wasn't too dusty. He pulled out parchment and a quill, but he couldn't think of what to say. He ended up staring at a blank piece of parchment for half an hour. He looked up when he heard voices in the hallway.

"Oh, come on, Harry, it was only a joke," Black chuckled.

Draco seethed, that bastard! "Sirius, it wasn't funny; she was sobbing."

What? Potter was defending Millicent to his godfather? Draco carefully got to his feet and crept to the door. Through the keyhole, he could see Potter and Black facing each other. Black shrugged, "Come on, Harry, it was all in good fun. And she's a Slytherin, after all."

Potter put his hands on his hips, "She's didn't see it that way; didn't you notice, she was *sobbing*. And as for the fact that she's a Slytherin, so is Blaise. And Sally-Anne, Margaret, and Flare for that matter; you wouldn't do that to any of them, would you?"

Black folded his arms in a huff, "You told me yourself that Bulstrode attacked Hermione in your second year."

"That was three years ago, Sirius, during dueling club. But this isn't all about Millicent Bulstrode, this is about all the people you have been pulling pranks on."

"What do you mean?"

Potter ran a hand through his abominable hair, "What you did to Ernie was justified, but now you're picking on people who've barely done anything. I mean, it wasn't Cho's fault that I liked her and she was going out with Cedric."

Black shrugged, "It was only a joke."

Potter sighed, "You may see it that way, but I'm pretty sure Cho didn't, and I *know* Millicent didn't."

"But she deserved it."

"Are you sure about that? You acted on information I told you, about what happened to Hermione, *three years ago*; you don't know what's changed since then."

"But I trust you Harry, if you say it happened, then it happened."

Potter sighed again, "You aren't hearing me, Sirius. *Stop* the practical jokes. It's mean."

Black shook his head, "It's not mean; it's fun. Come on, Harry, we can rule the school, be the new Marauders!"

Draco was baffled by what Potter said next. "I don't want to rule the school, Sirius. I just want to be with my friends, and get through my classes, and be a normal kid."

Black grinned, "What are you talking about? Of course you want to be the coolest boy in school; it will be just like the old days."

Potter looked confused, "What old days?"

"Why the old days of the Marauders, of course!"

"But... Sirius, those aren't my 'old days'. I wasn't even alive then."

"But you're a Marauder. You're Prongs jr.; James dubbed you himself when you were a baby."

"I was a baby! I don't remember that, and I don't think that means I have to pull pranks on people when I don't want to, and I don't have to pretend that I think it's funny when you do it, 'cause it's not."

"Listen, James-"

"Harry."

"What?"

Potter looked at Black, concerned, "You called me James. My name is Harry."

"I know that, it was just a slip of the tongue. You look like him, is all."

"I know I look like him, but I'm not him, Sirius. I don't like pranks, and I don't think that you should be harassing students like that."

"It's not harassment! It's just fun."

"It's not fun when a student runs off crying, Sirius. Maybe you don't know that because no one ever made you feel that way, but it *hurts* to be picked on like that. And even aside from all that, you could get into a lot of trouble."

Black just grinned, "Don't worry, Harry; Dumbledore and I have an understanding. He knows it's just all in good fun."

Potter drew his eyebrows together, "He told you that?"

Black chuckled, "He didn't have to. It's just like it was, James."

"Harry," Potter said firmly. "I'm Harry, not James, and no matter how much you want me to be like him, I'm simply not. I'm a seeker, not a chaser; I don't have the best grades in school; I don't want to be really popular; and I don't think that what you are doing is 'fun'."

Black frowned dangerously, "It's those muggles; they did this to you. If it weren't for them, you'd be just like we planned, Prongs and I..."

"Like you planned? Aren't I allowed to make my own decisions?"

"Well, of course you are, but if you hadn't been left with those muggles, you'd see how much fun this is."

"So just because I don't agree with you it means there's something wrong with me?"

Black spoke softly, as if to a small, sick child, "It's not you fault, Harry; it was the muggles-"

"I can't believe you!" Potter shouted, "You... you git!"

Draco almost chuckled; brilliant comeback, Potter. "Maybe I *would* think differently if I grew up with my parents, but that would only be because I never knew what it was like to be picked on. You know what you are? You're a bully; just like Dudley, and Malfoy, and Snape!"

Potter shouldn't have said that; he should have remembered that Black had spent twelve years in Azkaban, and no one emerges from that unscathed. Before Potter could react, Black's pale eyes flickered in a demented manner, and he slapped Potter across the face. It wasn't particularly hard (he didn't even knock Potter's glasses off), but it was enough to leave Potter's cheek pink and flood his wide eyes with tears.

Black's jaw dropped open and he stumbled back as if he had been the one who was hit. "Oh, Merlin, what have I done? Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry; did I hurt you? Oh, Merlin, I'm so sorry. Oh, Harry..."

Potter fled; he ran down the hall so swiftly that Black couldn't have caught him if he wanted to. Black watched him go forlornly, but did not follow. He wrapped his arms around his middle and started rocking back and fourth, moaning, "Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry... I'm sorry... I'm so sorry...Lily, James, oh, Merlin... I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm sorry..."

Draco held his breath. Black was clearly unbalanced; if he had hit Potter, there was no telling what he would do to Draco if he found him spying on him. After a time, Black stumbled away, and Draco could relax a bit. There were ten minutes before class (DADA, incidentally), so Draco hurried to write down everything he had seen in the letter to his father. He then tossed his supplies into his bag and cautiously made his way to the classroom.

Neither Black nor Potter (or Millicent, for that matter) ever came to class, and after twenty minutes of waiting, a frantic Granger fetched McGonagall. The overbearing witch gave them a homework assignment and sent them off to the library. Draco briefly considered staying behind to tell her what had happened, but the look on her face told him that he would likely not be believed, and have points taken to boot.

He decided to go to the library with everyone else, find a secluded corner, and finish his letter. He'd feel better after he had told his father about everything, especially Millicent. The 21st seemed so far away; Draco really needed to see his father.

O~O~O~O~O

Draco's letter strengthened Lucius' resolve to get better. Black was obviously insane. Lucius had told Draco to stay out of his way as much as possible, and contact Lucius immediately should something else happen. He even considered going to Dumbledore, but the consequences should he not be believed would likely fall on Draco, and Lucius could not allow that. It was therefore essential that Lucius stay well enough to come to Draco's aid if needs be.

And that was why Lucius had decided to go to Diagon Alley today. He needed to know if he could manage getting to Hogsmeade next week; he could not simply leave Draco waiting for him at the Three Broomsticks. Lucius also intended to use the trip as an opportunity to buy some sweets for Draco, and possibly find something that would help him keep his mind off Abraxas.

Lucius carefully examined his entire appearance in the full-length mirror. If he showed up in Diagon Alley looking ill it might make the papers; after word had gotten out about the divorce, the private life of the Malfoys had become even more newsworthy than before, and 'Witch Weekly' owled every week, without fail, requesting an interview.

Satisfied with his appearance (the mirror had informed him that it was, "Happy to see you looking so well, sir."), Lucius walked to the ballroom, cane firmly in hand, to apparate to Diagon Alley. The dizziness upon appearing next to the candy shop was so severe that he was forced to lean on his cane to avoid falling over, but at least he had managed to not splinch himself.

He bought sweets for Draco, and some books for the both of them. By the time he came out of Flourish and Blotts it was raining heavily. Lucius didn't know what to do next; many people, particularly the shopkeepers, had taken notice of him and were asking the most irritating, asinine questions, but Lucius did not particularly feel like returning to the Manor either.

He was feeling the lack of Abraxas distinctly now that he was away from the Manor, and he was in no hurry to return. What to do then? Lucius ended up wandering towards the Leaky Cauldron, but the crowd was even more invasive there. Tom's customers always seemed to be interested in whoever entered the place. There was only one escape route: muggle London. Usually Lucius would have preferred to cut his foot off before entering the muggle world, but right now all Lucius wanted was to be someplace... anonymous.

* End Chapter 5*


	6. Meetings and Mercedes

Disclaimer: They're not mine. You knew that. The Slytherin password belongs to whoever owns the X-Files, which, again, isn't me.

My Angel is a Dragon, My Devil is a Snake

-Catspook

Chapter 6: Meetings and Mercedes

Lucius wandered the streets of muggle London, unaware of the many odd looks he was getting. He was barely aware of the cold rain that was soaking through his robes. He felt almost completely numb; this place was so gray, and there was nothing that reminded him of anything in his life.

Lucius was so disconnected with his surroundings that he did not notice a large, sleek, dark blue vehicle pulling up next to him until he heard a woman's voice, "Mr. Malfoy, isn't it?"

Lucius glanced up, and saw, sitting behind the wheel of the expensive looking machine, the muggle woman who had taken out so many Death Eaters on September first.

"Can I give you a lift somewhere?" she asked.

Lucius glared at her. "And what makes you think I need one?" He refused to let on that he didn't know what she meant by a 'lift'.

She raised a blond eyebrow, "Well, unless your intention was to take a shower outdoors with your clothes on, I'd say that this whether was more than you bargained for. It's dry in here, if nothing else. Furthermore, you are drawing quite a lot of odd looks."

"I take it my clothes are a bit out of fashion?"

"Unless you are going to a costume party in the middle of the afternoon. Come on, get in."

"Why are you so intent upon getting me inside your vehicle?" he asked suspiciously.

She shrugged, "I just closed a big case, I have the afternoon off, and I wouldn't mind finding out more about what goes on at Hogwarts. Flare doesn't tell me much, you see."

"Flare?"

"My daughter; sixth year. She's in your son's house, if I'm not mistaken."

Well that certainly got Lucius' attention, and he really was quite wet. He opened to door of the car and slid into the leather passenger seat. "My name is Constance Lynda Hill, please call me Lynda."

"Lucius Malfoy," Lucius responded warily.

"Where to, Lucius?"

"I don't care."

Lynda shrugged, "Fine. I was planning on just taking a nice, long drive. I supposed you don't do that much, being a wizard."

Lucius narrowed his eyes as the car pulled into traffic but did not press the issue; he didn't want to talk about himself, after all. "Your daughter is in Slytherin?"

She nodded, "Umhm. She's the new quidditch captain. Nice thing your boy did, lending Bulstrode his broom; Flare told me the girl has talent."

"That is what Draco said."

After a long pause, Lynda glanced at Lucius, then asked, "My I ask why you were wandering about muggle London in the rain?"

"No."

"All right," she replied carefully, "What would you like to talk about?"

Lucius, of course, wanted to talk about Draco, but he was not about to let this strange, muggle woman know that. "Why are you so interested in talking to me?"

"You are a powerful man in your culture, and I must admit that I am curious about the world my daughter is now living in. As I said, she doesn't speak to me much."

"That certainly must be true if you are still unacquainted with our world after six years."

"Indeed; like her father, that girl."

"What exactly is it that you would like to know?"

"Hmm, where to begin..." It was an awkward exchange, but not entirely unpleasant. Lynda posed many questions, only about half of which Lucius was willing to answer. The nearly interrogation style of the questions and the fact that Lynda had mentioned 'closing a case' led Lucius to infer that she was a lawyer. Despite himself, Lucius was finding his own curiosity piqued.

That was another thing about himself he had never told anyone; he was too curious for his own good. Draco was the same way, but even more so. Lucius did not like to take Draco to Borgin and Burkes precisely because the boy always seemed to have his hands into everything, which could be very dangerous when dark magic was involved.

"Lucius? Lucius, are you all right?" Lynda asked.

"Fine, fine. I think perhaps, that it was time I returned home. Can this machine take me back to Diagon Alley?"

"We're about fifteen minutes from there; is that all right?" Lucius nodded.

Lynda seemed to realize that he was no longer interested in talking, and asked, "Mind if I turn on the stereo?" Lucius did not know what a stereo was, but he did not particularly care.

"Do as you like," he drawled tiredly.

Lynda leaned forward and fiddled with a set of knobs and buttons embedded in the front of the car. Immediately, and strange sort of music filled the vehicle. It sounded a bit like modern wizarding music, but with harsher percussions. Lucius intended to ignore it, as he largely did with wizard music, but the content of the lyrics caught his attention.

_'...__ And my socks are never clean._

_Teachers dated me_

_My parents hated me.__...' (1) _

"The government allows these lyrics to be broadcast?" Lynda gave Lucius and odd look.

"Of course. Does the wizarding government regulate the music industry?"

"Of course. The Ministry cannot allow the populous to be riled up by songs about children being romantically involved with their professors," Lucius replied.

Lynda narrowed her eyes at him, "You don't support government regulation of the arts, do you?"

Lucius sighed, "Most popular wizarding music hardly qualifies as 'art'."

"And that would be because the government is restricting it."

"It's a factor, certainly, though I'm sure much of muggle music is also so much meaningless tripe because that is what sells," Lucius frowned. Surely muggles could not be more culturally advanced than wizards?

Lynda grinned, "Quite true, but at least the possibility is there. Oh, here we are; that abandoned shop front is the entrance to Diagon Alley, if I am not mistaken?"

"It only looks like an abandoned shop to you, but yes it is."

"Well, goodbye then. I expect I'll see you at King's Cross at the beginning of the Christmas holidays." Lucius had to fumble around a bit before he managed to get the car's door open; the only cars he had ever ridden in were limousines that belonged to the ministry, and the doors of those cars opened by themselves.

He climbed out of the car, too embarrassed to look back at his host. Not that he should have cared much about what she thought; she was still a muggle, after all. He did not even say goodbye before shutting the car door. Lynda drove away, and Lucius found himself once again standing alone in the rain. Lucius glanced at his silver pocket watch; at least the muggle had given him a couple of hours away from Abraxas. He sighed, walked back into the Leaky Cauldron and dissapparated.

O~O~O~O~O

It had been a very uncomfortable week for Draco. Millicent avoided him as much as possible, and he avoided her. Black had not reappeared until three days after his fight with Potter, and the school had been thick with rumors about why this was, ranging from deadly illnesses to Black running off to attempt to resurrect You-Know-Who.

Potter, also, had been missing for hours until, as rumor had it, Longbottom had gone back to their dorm to find Potter sobbing on his bed. Draco had felt a twinge of guilt when he had first heard that, though he didn't know why. He hadn't done anything wrong, and this was Potter he was talking about.

But Potter had defended Millicent to Black, which was amazing to Draco. Draco was terribly confused. And even after both Black and Potter had returned to classes, there had still been a lot of tension in the air. Potter refused to talk to, or even look at, Black, and Black kept sending Potter these, sad, hang dog looks all throughout class. Both Black and Potter largely avoided meals in the Great Hall, and they never were in the Great Hall at the same time.

Draco also found that his appetite had disappeared, and he spent most of his meals staring at his place and picking at his food. He probably wouldn't have even bothered to go to the Great Hall at all, but he felt guilty when he didn't. His father would be so disappointed in him when he found out that Draco wasn't taking care of himself properly.

And because of all that was going on, Draco was finding it hard to concentrate on his classes. He'd even started making mistakes in potions, and that scared him to death. Thank Merlin he usually caught himself before anyone else noticed. No such luck today; he had put one too many slugs in his melting mixture and it had turned purple instead of deep red. At least he hadn't exploded anything, but Snape had still noticed and asked him to stay after class. Once everybody had left (that git Weasley had sneered at Draco on the way out) Snape walked up to Draco's table and began hesitantly, "I've noticed that you have become distracted lately, Draco; is anything wrong?"

Draco stared at his lap, "No, sir. I'm sorry; I'll pay more attention from now on."

"Draco," Snape said gently (for Snape, anyway), "I am your Head of House. If something is affecting your ability to concentrate in classes, I need to know about it. I've noticed that you and Millicent have not been spending time together lately, did you two have a fight?"

Draco narrowed his eyes, "Why are you so interested in this? I mean, I made some mistakes, and I'll work on that; I don't want to make a big issue about it, all right?"

"I would like to say that this is purely altruistic," Snape replied dryly, "But when I last spoke to your father, he did ask me to keep an eye on you. With Black here, I cannot say that I blame him. Did Black do something to you?"

"Not yet," Draco scowled, "But that man is seriously unbalanced."

Snape looked at Draco shrewdly, "Is there any particular thing you witnessed to make you say that?"

"You don't think it's true?"

Snape frowned, "I know it's true, but I would like to know how you know that."

Draco did not want to tell even Snape about the argument between Potter and Black; Draco did not want to get involved by being the accusing witness on the off chance that the professors did not know about it already. Draco tried to think of another answer for Snape's question. "Black cursed Millicent; she was really upset about it."

Snape nodded, "I've spoken to Millicent about that. Did that cause some sort of rift between the two of you?"

Draco pouted; at least it was nice to have someone to listen to his side of the story. He'd written his father about it, of course, but it wasn't the same as speaking to someone face to face. "I did 'finite incantatum' for her, but then she wouldn't look at me. She said that people like me aren't friends with people like her and she just stomped off. She wouldn't listen to me!"

Snape listened to Draco with a serious expression on his face. He paused a moment before commenting, "I am the last person to advise you on relationships-"

"Relationships? You think Millicent and I were dating? Of course, we weren't; we *were* just friends. Now we're not anything, and it's all Black's fault!" Draco scowled furiously, Black really ought to be arrested again; the wizard was a menace.

Snape nodded, "There are a great many things that are Black's fault, but perhaps this particular problem is one that can be remedied."

"How?" Draco pouted.

"As I said, I am probably not the best person to help you with this. Perhaps you can speak to your father about it?"

"I was intending to; he's going to meet me in Hogsmeade."

"Good. Is there anything I can help you with; do you need extra help with potions, for example?"

Draco flushed, "No. I'll pay better attention; it's no problem."

"You also haven't been eating properly; your father asked me to specifically look out for that."

Draco looked at his hands, "I know, I'm sorry."

"Are you feeling ill?"

"No, I just don't have an appetite anymore."

"Because of Millicent?"

"Yes."

"Then you father should help you sort that out, but whether you have an appetite or not you still must eat. If you don't, you really will fall ill, and you are too thin to begin with."

Draco rolled his eyes, "Wonderful, just like the lectures I get from father."

"Well, in this instance, your father is right. Are you going to be alright now?"

"I think so; thank you, sir."

"Go up to lunch, then." Draco finished putting his school supplies into his bag while Snape erased the blackboard.

"Good afternoon, sir. Um, thank you."

Snape nodded, his attention still on the board. "You're quite welcome, Draco."

O~O~O~O~O

Lucius was once again standing before his full-length mirror obsessively examining every aspect of his appearance. Today he was to meet Draco in Hogsmeade, and as excited as he was about it, he was terrified that Draco would see that Lucius was falling apart. His son simply didn't deserve to have to deal with that after all that Lucius had already put him through.

Finally, still unsatisfied, Lucius had to leave to avoid being late. He apparated directly next to the Three Broomsticks, startling the Weasley girl. He sneered at her as he entered the tavern; it felt rather good not be on the receiving end of fear for a change. Lucius took his usual, shadowed booth in the corner. He ordered a glass of red wine from Madame Rosmerta and waited for his son.

He could not quench the fear that Draco would not arrive hurt and ill like he had the last time they had met here. Lucius glanced around, noticing a group of happy third-years who were introducing their muggle-born friend to butterbeer.

c~c~c~c~c

"What'th thith, Da- father?"

"This is butterbeer. Your tutor has told me that you have been doing a fine job on your reading this week, and I think you deserve a little reward."

The five-year-old smiled at him and took a sip of the golden liquid. "Mmm! Thank you, father."

Lucius handed him a napkin, "You have foam on your lip, dragon."

Draco grinned shyly and wiped his face, "Thorry, father."

c~c~c~c~c

"Sorry I'm late, father." Lucius glanced up, mortified that he had not noticed Draco enter.

"Quite all right, son." Lucius stood and held his arms slightly open; Draco needed no more encouragement. In one quick step and his precious was back in his arms and hugging him tightly; it was paradise. Lucius kissed the top of Draco's blond head before pulling back; as wonderful as it was to hold his darling son, it would not due to have everyone in the pub wondering why they were hanging onto each other.

"Have a seat, Draco." They sat across from each other, but Lucius could tell that Draco still needed the comfort of being touched. After Madame Rosmerta brought Draco a butterbeer, Lucius extended his hand, and Draco took it, smiling sadly. "Are you well?"

"Fine," Draco lied, "A bit tired and... lonely, I guess."

"Still fighting with that Bulstrode girl?"

"Not fighting, just... avoiding." He sounded so sad, his poor dragon.

"Is it mutual?"

Draco nodded, pouting morosely. "I don't know what to say to her, father. She refuses to believe me. It's her parents; they messed her up."

Lucius narrowed his eyes, "How so?"

"They think that because she's not as pretty as her sister she's a bad person. And now she doesn't believe me when I tell her that I like her."

Lucius knew very well what that felt like. He sometimes had trouble believing that Draco loved him, largely because of what Abraxas had done to him. Lucius considered his next words very carefully, "I know that it can be difficult when people don't believe you, and Millicent will likely be very hard to convince, but this is no reflection on you. Millicent is insecure about herself, and she has trouble seeing that she is worthy of someone like you. If you truly want her as a friend, do not let her cut herself off from you. Persist, show patience, and once you have convinced her she will likely be the most loyal friend you will ever have."

Draco looked at him with hopeful eyes, "You think I can do that?"

Lucius genuinely smiled for the first time in weeks. "I am sure of it. You have, after all, a friend in Severus; he has many of the same problems."

"He does? Did his parents treat him badly as well?"

Lucius nodded sadly; Severus, like Lucius, would never have turned to Voldemort if not for his father's abuse, though in Severus' case, it was more mental and verbal, rather than physical or sexual. Lucius watched, concerned, as Draco suddenly glanced away, looking very nervous. "What's the matter?"

"Um, I was just thinking... you don't have to answer this, but... um, do you sometimes feel like that?"

"Like what?" Lucius asked cautiously, though he was reasonably certain what Draco was asking.

"Like... like you have trouble believing me when..." Draco looked mortified; Lucius wondered what he had done to make Draco so afraid of speaking about this.

"To tell you the truth, when you were born, I was sure I did not deserve you, and sometimes those feelings do return, but it is not your fault. That last part is very important, remember it."

Draco looked so sad, "I'm sorry, father."

Lucius looked at him sternly, "I told you that it isn't your fault."

"I know, but I'm sorry that it happened."

"In that case, thank you, but it very important that you remember that you are not to blame, for me, Severus, or Millicent. You understand?"

Draco nodded solemnly. "Are you all right, father?"

Lucius was prepared for that. "Fine, Draco, why do you ask?"

"You've lost weight."

"So have you."

Draco narrowed his eyes, "First of all, not as much as you. Secondly, that's beside the point. And don't tell me it's not my business."

"I would never tell you that my health is none of your business, but rest assured that I am dealing with it."

"Then why have you lost weight?"

Lucius was disgusted with himself; he should not be worrying Draco over this. He should have canceled the meeting, but he had missed his son so much... "I was not feeling well for a time, but I am better now-"

Draco withdrew his hand, and to Lucius, it was more painful than a slap across the face. "I knew it! You lied to me."

"Keep your voice down, Draco."

"You lied to me," Draco repeated, softly.

Oh, precious, please forgive me, Lucius mourned; the guilt was killing him, though he knew he'd only done it to protect his son. "I did not lie to you; I would never do that. I deliberately avoided speaking to you about it because I did not want to worry you."

"I am not a child, father; I can deal with it."

"Whether you want to believe it or not, you are still a child-"

Draco opened his mouth to retort, but Lucius raised a silencing hand, "You are very mature for your age in some things, but you are still a child. More specifically, you are my child, and it is still my decision what I chose to burden you with; I did not want to burden you with this."

Draco frowned furiously, "I'm 'burdened' with it whether you want me to be or not, but when you refuse to tell me what's going on then there's nothing I can do about it, for you or for me."

"You're only burdened with it if it you find out about it or if it has long-lasting effects. I will never intentionally conceal and issue that large from you, but I assure that I am handling this one. Admittedly, I didn't handle it as effectively as I would have liked, but-"

"I specifically asked you how you were doing, and you intentionally mislead me," Draco interrupted quietly, "How can I trust you after that?"

Lucius' heart broke. Draco had hit on the one argument that Lucius had no good answer for, and the consequences could be disastrous. "I am sorry, I only wanted to protect you."

Draco studied his hands for a long moment while he considered this. "Do you promise that you won't do it again?"

Lucius sighed sadly; please, precious, don't hate me for this, "I am sorry, my dragon, but I cannot."

"Don't you trust me?"

"I do, my precious, but there are other factors to consider."

"What factors?"

"I... there are some things that I simply cannot talk about to anyone."

Draco looked at Lucius seriously. Lucius looked away self-consciously; it felt like Draco could see right into him. "This is because of your father as well, isn't it?"

"Very astute, Draco; it is, and as such, you need to remember that it is no reflection on you. This is my problem, and-"

"I want to help, father. It makes me sad to see you so unhappy."

Lucius glanced up, "I love you, my dragon, but if you truly wish to help, you need to take care of yourself. Your well-being is the most important thing to me."

Draco stared at his hands, folded in his lap. "Okay," he finally conceded.

"Thank you, Draco, and I am truly sorry." There was a long, awkward silence. "So what would you like for Yule?"

* End Chapter 6 *

_(1)_ "Don't Let Me Get Me" by Pink – I would have replaced this with a song more appropriate to the period (1995), but it is too germane to the plot, and I could not find an acceptable substitute.


	7. I'm Sorry

Disclaimer: They're not mine. You knew that.

My Angel is a Dragon, My Devil is a Snake

-Catspook

Chapter 7: I'm sorry

Lucius apparated back to the Manor's ballroom directly after Draco left the Three Broomsticks. He immediately collapsed onto the marble floor, sobbing. He was so stupid, so useless...

c~c~c~c~c

"You stupid, useless, little whore! How many times have I told you...

c~c~c~c~c

His little dragon, his precious son, deserved so much better from him...

c~c~c~c~c

"You lied to me!"

c~c~c~c~c

Oh, Draco, my dragon, I am so sorry...

c~c~c~c~c

"Ow! Father, why did you do that?"

"I explained this, Draco. It is very important that your learn how to manage pain without letting other people know what you are feeling."

"But it hurth!"

c~c~c~c~c

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry...

c~c~c~c~c

"Crucio!"

"FATHER!"

c~c~c~c~c

Oh, precious, how could you forgive me that? You deserved so much better than me...

c~c~c~c~c

"What did I do to be saddled with a wretch like you, you disgusting little worm! You will not fail me again, you stupid..."

c~c~c~c~c

I failed you, precious. It's all my fault...

c~c~c~c~c

"Please, don't, father! I don't think I can handle it today..."

c~c~c~c~c

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry...

c~c~c~c~c

"I'm thorry! Whatever I did, I'm thorry! Pleathe don't do that, father..."

c~c~c~c~c

Not your fault! None of it was your fault! It was all mine; I'm so sorry you have to suffer for my mistakes, my precious...

"Master Lucius, sir?"

"GET AWAY FROM ME YOU VILE CREATURE!" he screamed, "How could you let Him do that to me! How could you let me do it to my precious..." Lucius couldn't stop himself from dissolving back into sobs. He was so pathetic, so weak...

"Dibby is mostest sorry, Master Lucius sir!" the hose elf wailed, slamming her head against the marble floor. "Dibby is wishing she could have been protecting Master Lucius sir from Master's father, sir! Dibby is bad, bad house elf!"

"Stop!" Lucius barked, "Just... stop..."

He didn't want Dibby's pity or her guilt. He wanted... He didn't know what he wanted. He wanted Draco to be happy, to be safe, and if she couldn't manage that, and she couldn't, then nothing she said or did mattered. But he didn't order her away; he didn't know why. He was so tired, and it hurt so much... But he couldn't lie on the ballroom floor forever; he needed to be ready to take care of Draco.

He shakily climbed to his feet, leaning heavily on his cane, and stumbled to his bedroom. Dibby followed him at a distance, and after Lucius pulled off his cloak and shoes and climbed into bed, he ordered her to bring him dinner; he had to be back at his normal weight before the Christmas holidays or Draco would get even more worried. "I'm sorry, precious," he sighed, "You deserved so much better than me."

O~O~O~O~O

Draco couldn't swallow his pride enough to confront Millicent until Tuesday night. He had been in his room doing Thursday's arithmancy homework when Valini had come in, grinning like an idiot. "I'm probably wastin' my breath, but I'm about to go set up this week's film; you're welcome to come. We're havin' it tonight because Thursday is Halloween and Dumbledore has other stuff planned. It's 'Star Wars: A New Hope'. See, Star Wars is..."

"Do you honestly think I care?" Draco had demanded archly. 'The Sword in the Stone' had been mildly interesting, but Draco preferred to take advantage of the privacy that was available in the dorms when everyone else went to 'movie night'. Therefore, after Valini left, he had gathered up his books to continue studying in the more comfortable and newly emptied common room.

Well, not completely empty. "Millicent?"

Millicent, who had been sitting on the couch in front of the fire, turned. "Oh, were you going to study down here? I'll go up to my room..."

"No. I mean, you don't have to."

Millicent looked away, "I will anyway; just let me get my books."

"Wait a minute," Draco walked over and sat next to Millicent on the couch. She leaned away from him, watching him warily. "I want to talk to you."

She didn't encourage him, but she didn't leave either; that was a good sign. "It bothers me that you can't believe me when I say that you're my friend-"

Millicent opened her mouth to reply, but, in imitation of his father, Draco raised a silencing hand, "Let me finish, please. You seem to think that I can't like you because you aren't pretty, but that's just not true. I like you because you are nice to me and, until least week, you listened to me and believed what I said. I would still like to try to be friends again."

Millicent watched him carefully, confusion and mistrust evident in her expression. Draco worked very hard to keep in mind what his father had said, that her problem had nothing to do with him personally.

Finally, she said, "I'm sorry. If you really want to be friends again, then I guess I'd like to try too." Draco grinned; he was used to getting what he wanted.

O~O~O~O~O

It turned out to be the night for apologies. Draco and Millicent had gone to the library to do some research for history of magic when Potter and Black had marched by. At least, Potter had marched; Black had fallowed timidly, like puppy with its tail between its legs.

Draco motioned Millicent to stay put, then followed them stealthily; he wanted to know what was going on with those two. They ended up once again in the hallway in front of the DADA room. Draco hid behind the last bend in the hall; it would not do to be spotted. Unfortunately, he was far enough away that he couldn't hear everything that was said. Draco concentrated hard, trying to catch as much as he could.

"...want, Sirius?"

"I wanted to..."

"You had better be intending to apologize, or I'm leaving right now."

"I am so sorry, Harry. I never *never* meant to hurt you. Please, can you forgive me?"

There was a pause, "For hitting me, I can forgive you, as long as you *never* do it again-"

"Harry, I would never-"

"I'm not done yet. I can forgive you for hitting me, because... both upset, and you are obviously sorry, but you're not sorry about the pranks, and I can't forgive you for that. And even if I could, it's not me you need to apologize to."

"Harry... thought a lot about... still can't see why you were so upset."

"In that case, I just can't talk to you anymore."

"Harry, please don't!"

"I told you I'd leave if you didn't intend to apologize, and you clearly didn't."

"Harry, please! I can't lose you, I just can't! I'll do whatever you want!"

"You think this is easy for me? I love you; I do, and that's why it hurts so much to see you doing such cruel things to people."

"Harry, I didn't mean to be cruel, but if you're convinced that I did-"

"I never thought that you intended to be mean; you just couldn't see that people got hurt anyway."

"I guess... concede..."

"That's what I wanted. But I still think it would be good for you to apologize to the kids you hurt."

"... guess..."

After that, Potter and Black began speaking so quietly that Draco could no longer hear much of anything. Glancing at his pocket watch, Draco realized that the library was going to close in a few minutes, and he crept away to go help Millicent bring their things back to the dorms.

"There you are," Millicent greeted, only to be hushed by Madam Prince. The librarian glared at them and gestured towards the clock, so they started packing up their books.

Millicent leaned close to Draco and asked, "Did you hear anything interesting?"

Draco nodded as he shouldered his book bag and brought the books he wanted to check out over to the desk. Madam Prince scowled at them, but stamped the books anyway. Draco placed them in his bag and they headed back to the common room. Once they were away from the library, Draco glanced around to make sure they were alone.

"The day Black cursed you, I overheard him and Potter having an argument. Potter... well, Potter said that Black should stop harassing people and Black got angry and slapped him."

Millicent gasped, "Really?"

Draco nodded, "That's why they've been avoiding each other. Anyway, just now, Black apologized for hitting Potter, and told him that he'd stop the 'pranks'. Potter agreed, but he still thinks that Black should apologize to the students he cursed."

Millicent smiled, "That's nice."

Draco narrowed his eyes at her, "You're not about to go kissing Potter's arse now like everyone else, are you?"

"No," Millicent grinned. "But I always wondered something..."

"What?"

"Well... since Black was so keen on getting back at people who had done stuff to Potter, how come he never tried to curse you?"

Draco shrugged, "I've wondered that too, but I never could figure it out. But if Black keeps his promise, I guess I don't have to worry about it anymore." Draco would later remember those words and cringe.

O~O~O~O~O

"Watch it, Weasley!" Draco snarled, as the lanky redhead bumped into him that Thursday on the way to DADA. Weasley only grinned in a very disturbing manner. Draco tried to make light of it, "As much as I can understand touching me to be the greatest thrill you've had on your entire, pathetic life, get *away from me*****."

But Weasley then whispered something under his breath that Draco had hoped never to hear again. Suddenly, Draco's body was shrinking and sprouting fur; Dear, Merlin no! Father, help me!

But there was something wrong; it didn't hurt like this last time! It felt like his bones were breaking, tearing muscle and skin. Draco screamed and fell on his back. Father, help!

Draco could hear people talking, but it was hard to make out the words. Then there was a loud thud and Draco managed to open his eyes wide enough to see Millicent pinning Weasley against the wall, and Weasley's nose dripping blood, clearly broken.

Potter was yelling and Granger ran off. Draco hoped that her teacher's pet tendencies would hold and she was going to get a professor; dear Merlin, it hurt! Draco whimpered when a booming voice filled the hall, causing him to flinch and jarring his fragile, shattered bones badly.

"Miss Bulstrode, Mr. Weasley, what is going on here?"

"She punged me!"

"He attacked Draco!"

Dumbledore's wrinkled face entered Draco's narrow field of vision. ", can you speak?"

Draco could only whimper, and though the pain he felt himself being floated into the air and directed towards the hospital wing. He vaguely heard Dumbledore order Millicent to wait for the him at the gargoyle guarding his office, Weasley to follow them to the hospital wing so that a house elf could fix his nose, and Granger to find Snape and bring him to the hospital wing.

Snape, yes, Snape would think to call Draco's father; Draco wanted his father!

O~O~O~O~O

Lucius was lazily playing a chess game against himself in his office when Severus' head appeared in the fireplace. Immediately Lucius felt his body go cold, "Severus? What is it?"

"Weasley got it into his fool head to attempt to transfigure Draco into a ferret and didn't manage to do it properly. Draco will be fine, but he was asking for you-"

"I'll be there immediately." Lucius' heart beat erratically as he ran to the ballroom and flooed to Hogwarts. Normally, Hogwarts was not accessible by floo, but Lucius knew that Dumbledore could connect his office at a moment's notice in the case of an emergency.

"Hogwarts!" Lucius stumbled out of the old fool's fireplace, immediately demanding, "Where is my son?"

Lucius was too worried to notice that the infernal twinkle in the old fool's blue eyes had gone out. "He is in the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey is tending to him; I'm afraid-"

Lucius did not wait for Dumbledore to finish, instead striding out of the idiot's office as quickly as he could manage without letting on how terrified he was. He did not even notice that Weasley had been cowering in the corner of the Headmaster's office. Nor did Lucius notice that the Headmaster had followed him until Dumbledore placed a wrinkled hand on Lucius' arm. "What?" Lucius snarled, jerking away.

"I'm afraid that you can't see Draco just yet-"

"You cannot keep him from me!"

"No one is trying to keep Draco from you, but Madam Pomfrey is not quite done tending to him yet."

"What did that whelp do to him?" Lucius growled.

"He attempted to-"

"I know what he 'attempted' to do, now tell me what he did!" Had Lucius been less angry, he would have been surprised by the fact that Dumbledore did not seem to take offense at Lucius' rude tone.

"As far as I understand it, the transformation got stuck about half-way through and we cannot safely use a reversal spell. Madam Pomfrey is going to have to remove and then replace some of Draco's bones, and then Severus is going to provide a potion to remove the fur."

Bones? "Which bones?"

"Primarily in his legs and arms, I believe." Lucius mind was jumping rapidly from thought to thought; it was too painful to focus on most of the possibilities that were forming in his head.

"If his bones were that badly malformed, the rest of his body..."

"Will be easy to put right once the affected bones are removed."

Oh, Draco, his poor, precious dragon, "Is he in much pain?" Lucius asked roughly.

Lucius did not notice the look Dumbledore gave him, "Due to the nature of the spell, Madam Pomfrey was not able to cast a sleep or numbing charm on him." Lucius did not wait for further explanation; he continued his fevered trek to the hospital wing.

His Draco, his poor dragon! When Lucius reached the hospital wing, he did not see Draco on any of the regular beds, meaning that the nurse was probably tending to him in one of the private rooms. Lucius swore loudly when he found the door leading to those rooms locked. He hastily drew his wand and was about to cast 'alohomora' when Dumbledore once again caught up with him. "I'm afraid I must ask you not to do that, Lucius. Madam Pomfrey needs to concentrate."

"He was asking for me!" Lucius didn't care that panic was evident in his voice; he only cared about getting to Draco as soon as possible.

"You will be able to see him in a few minutes, but it would be dangerous for you to interrupt Madam Pomfrey now."

"Then I will wait here until it is safe." With that, Lucius pulled a chair up next to the door and sat down, tapping his cane on the floor in agitation.

"Lucius, I am truly sorry that this happened-"

"Don't," Lucius snarled. "Save your placations for the parents of your *darling* Gryffindors. After seven years here do you doubt I know how you really feel about those who wear the silver and green with pride? If you're trying to appear as if you actually care about the welfare of *all* the students under your roof by acting the part of the concerned administrator, don't bother. You and I are the only ones here to see it, and I know what you really think about us."

The old fool seemed to consider this before stepping back slightly and asking, "What is it that you want me to do, Lucius?"

"Get out of here!" Lucius hissed without hesitation, "Spare me your platitudes."

Amazingly, Dumbledore did leave, giving Lucius a sad glance as he did so. Too worried to ponder the reason why his command had actually been obeyed, Lucius leaned forward, gripping the head of his cane tightly, remembering the last time he had been forbidden to see his son for 'Draco's own good'.

c~c~c~c~c

"He's sick, he needs me!"

"Please calm down, Mr. Malfoy. The mediwizards are still not exactly sure what your son's specific illness is, and it would be dangerous to interrupt them at this point."

"What are they doing to him?"

"The mediwizards are running tests, attempting to discern the nature of his illness. If you could wait here without disturbing the other patents' families, the mediwizards will be sure to call you in to see Draco as soon as possible."

c~c~c~c~c

The wait had been intolerable then, too, and when Lucius had finally been allowed to see Draco, the tiny seven-year-old had been in such a state of distress that he had launched himself into Lucius arms, crying and trembling violently. Images of Draco wondering why Lucius was not coming to comfort him now were drowning Lucius in guilt. Oh, please, Draco, please understand that I'm only trying to help you.

A half an hour later, the Hogwarts matron bustled out of the locked door, surprised to find Lucius waiting there. "Mr. Malfoy?"

Lucius stood quickly, "How is he?"

"I've healed all the skin and soft tissue injuries, but he's in a for a painful few days. He has sixty-two bones to regrow; it would be dangerous to grow them all at once, so we will have to space it out over a couple of days."

Lucius sighed, "May I see him?"

The nurse pursed her lips, "Perhaps you can calm him down. The best thing for him is rest, and he is not being cooperative."

Lucius did not waste the time it would have taken to glare at the witch for criticizing his son, he simply swept down the hall looking for Draco's room. He found his precious dragon at the far end of the hall, magically bound to the bed, patches of soft, white fur scattered over his body, and his limbs and part of his ribcage looking... deflated.

Large, silver eyes gazed at Lucius forlornly. "Father?"

He sounded so small, so lost, "Yes, my precious, I'm here. Why are you bound?"

"I can't move, or the bones won't grow back properly. It's hurts, father."

Lucius gently stroked the side of Draco's face, "I know, my dragon. I'm sorry, there's nothing I can do about that."

"Just stay with me, father, please."

"Of course, precious. I won't leave your side until you ask me to." Lucius pulled up a chair and resolved to offer what comfort he could.

O~O~O~O~O

Percy was sitting at the kitchen table, sipping tea, and going over a report on the precision of scales used for potions making when a Hogwarts owl tapped on the kitchen window. His parents had gone to the annual Ministry Halloween ball, so Percy opened the window and retrieved the letter.

He waved the owl over to Errol's former perch (the old owl had finally died last summer, and Percy had volunteered Hermes as the family owl until his parents had the money to buy a new one). Percy considered whether he should open the letter.

It was addressed to his parents, and it was technically a crime for him to open it, but it must have been urgent for Dumbledore to send a message on Halloween night. Of course, if it really had been urgent Dumbledore would have contacted them through the floo system. But Percy and Mr. Weasley had been at work all day, and Percy just remembered that his mum had mentioned a shopping trip to Diagon Alley that morning; Dumbledore could have called on them while Mrs. Weasley was out.

That decided it. Percy cautiously opened the letter and did something he had not done in years; he swore, loudly. Percy, mindful of what his parents would think if they returned and found him gone, wrote a quick note on the back of a grocery list before apparating into Hogsmeade. Percy ran across the vast lawns of Hogwarts as quickly as he could; by the time he reached the front doors, he was gasping for air and lamenting that he was not in as good shape as Charlie or the twins.

The trek to Dumbledore's office was a long one, and it gave Percy some time to figure out what to say to Ron. He planned out a clear and rational speech about thinking before acting and *never* casting spells on other people that you don't know how to use properly, but the whole thing flew right out of his head when he the door to Dumbledore's office opened and saw Ron sitting in front of the Headmaster's desk, his arms crossed, slouching sullenly.

"What is the matter with you?" Percy shouted, "Do you have a death wish? Do you have any idea what Lucius Malfoy could do to you?"

Ron scowled at him, "Where are Mum and Dad?"

"At the Halloween ball," Percy panted, "I came as soon as I got the owl. Has Lucius Malfoy arrived yet?"

"Please have a seat Mr. Weasley. Mr. Malfoy did, in fact, arrive hours ago, but he is more interested in staying with his son than discussing Ronald's punishment."

"What? I'd have expected him to..." Percy trailed off when Dumbledore looked pointedly at Ron, who was staring at Percy suspiciously.

"Nevermind." Percy sat in the chair next to Ron's and demanded, "Why did you do it, Ron? What made you think you could do it? Human transfiguration is seventh year material."

"Why should I have to tell you? You're not Dad."

"Would you like me to apparate into the middle of the Halloween ball and explain to Mum and Dad that you put the son of the richest wizard in Britain in the hospital wing using a spell you had no business attempting in the first place?"

"No."

"Did Fred and George put you up to this?"

"No."

"Why did you do it, then?"

"You wouldn't understand," Ron replied, sullenly.

Percy frowned, "Either you try to explain it to me or I really will interrupt the ball to get Mum and Dad. Do you think Mum will understand?" Ron remained mute.

"Well, Mr. Weasley, if you are unwilling to explain to your brother why you would do such a thing to a fellow student, perhaps you will be willing to explain it to me." Percy turned to see a very angry McGonagall glaring at Ron. Professor Snape, scowling fiercely, was standing behind her.

"Ah, Minerva. Severus, I trust that means you have developed a potion to remove Mr. Malfoy's fur?"

"Yes. Lucius has once again refused to leave Draco's side, so it appears that we must have this meeting without him."

Dumbledore stroked his beard. "Normally, I would not feel comfortable doing that, but Molly and Arthur are also busy at the moment, and Ronald has been waiting in my office for over five hours. Do you think it is acceptable to continue now, Minerva?" McGonagall nodded. "In that case, Ronald, why did you see fit to attempt to transfigure Draco into a ferret?"

* End Chapter 7 *


	8. Old Dogs, New Tricks

Old Author's Note (Abridged): For those of you who still want to know, 'Magni', according to the Latin/English dictionary I used, means both 'worth' and 'dearly loved'. I thought it was really cute, and the double meaning seemed appropriate considering how much money the Malfoys have. I know I said I was going to focus on Lucius and Draco's POVs, but I could not resist ending this chapter with some Dumbledore angst. I like Dumbledore a lot, but he has made some serious mistakes; I wanted him to realize that.

Disclaimer: They're not mine. You knew that.

My Angel is a Dragon, My Devil is a Snake

-Catspook

Chapter 8: Old Dogs, New Tricks

"In that case, Ronald, why did you see fit to attempt to transfigure Draco into a ferret?"

Ron stared at his toes. "It was supposed to be a Halloween surprise for Harry. Sirius and I had been planning it for weeks, but yesterday he told me he wasn't going to do it, so I had to do it myself."

"Black," Snape growled, "I should have known."

Dumbledore silenced Snape with a look then asked, "Do you know why Professor Black decided not to follow through with this 'surprise'?"

"No," Ron sulked, "He didn't tell me. He's been getting everyone who ever hassled Harry, Hermione, or me. He was saving Malfoy for Halloween, to make it special, you know, but then pulled out at the last second."

"Did it not occur to you that he might have a good reason for doing that?" Percy demanded.

Ron glared at him, "I figured if it had been a good reason, he would have told me what it was."

"Perhaps it would be appropriate to have Sirius present to explain his part in this incident." Dumbledore summoned a house elf to fetch Black, then continued his questioning, "Why did you think that you were capable of successfully transfiguring Draco into a ferret? As your brother pointed out, human transfiguration is seventh year material."

"Sirius was teaching me. I did it on a frog Sirius found by the lake."

"Mr. Malfoy is not a frog, Mr. Weasley. Surely you recall when I lectured on the difference between humans and animals," McGonagall snapped.

"Yeah, but Sirius made it sound so easy."

"Whether you were foolish enough to think you could cast the spell aside," Snape hissed, "Did you not consider the fact that intentionally transfiguring a student against his will is an offense worthy of expulsion."

Ron's eyes widened in alarm, "Expulsion! Sirius said he used to do stuff like this all the time when he was in school! And Fred and George have done it lots of times with their canary creams!"

McGonagall opened her mouth to respond to that, but Black walked in, looking sheepish. "Headmaster, you needed me for something?"

"Yes. Mr. Weasley has informed him that you had intended to transfigure Mr. Malfoy into a ferret today, but changed your mind. Is that true?"

Black glared at Ron, "Yes," he admitted, "But I didn't expect Ron to go ahead and try it anyway."

"Why did you intend to do this? Surely you understand that it is inappropriate for a professor to transfigure a student against his will."

Black looked confused, "It was just supposed to be a prank. You know, like we did in school."

McGonagall looked at him sternly, "You are not longer a student, Mr. Black. As a professor, you are expected to set a good example for your students."

"Yeah..." Black mumbled, "That's what Harry's been telling me. He asked me to stop with the pranks, so I did."

"Harry didn't want you to transfigure Malfoy?" Ron interrupted.

"Yes. But I don't understand why you all are suddenly so upset about it now; I've been pulling pranks for years."

"We are all *quite* aware of that," Snape sneered.

Dumbledore again silenced Snape with a look, "You must admit, Sirius, that the consequences in this case are quite severe."

"But it was an accident wasn't it? Ron didn't mean to put Malfoy in the hospital wing."

"Were have we heard *that* before?" Snape hissed.

"I have a question," Percy interrupted before Snape and Black could get into a serious argument. "Professor Black, if you were intending to do the transfiguration yourself, why did you try to teach Ron to do it?"

Black shrugged, "I told him in advance so that he could help set the scene, you know, and he wanted to learn how to do the actual spell."

"Did it not occur to you that he might want to learn it in order to use it against someone?" Snape demanded.

Black shrugged, "What's wrong with that? James and I used to do stuff like that all the time, and the twins with their canary creams..."

"But the fact of the matter is that Mr. Malfoy got hurt quite badly," Dumbledore explained.

"Well, that's not *my* fault," Black replied defensively.

"Mr. Weasley would never have attempted that spell if you hadn't suggested it and 'taught' him how," Snape attacked.

Percy and Ron shared a shocked glance; Snape had actually defended Ron! Of course, he probably only did it to get Black in trouble, but still!

"I'm afraid I must agree with Severus, Sirius. However, the decision to attempt the spell did lie with Mr. Weasley. Minerva?"

"It is difficult to have this discussion without Mr. Malfoy, but as some of the blame obviously lies with Professor Black, expulsion would certainly be inappropriate."

Ron let out a sigh of relief. " *However*, it was extremely irresponsible of Mr. Weasley to attempt such a complicated spell on a fellow student-"

"But it's *Malfoy*."

McGonagall gave Ron such a glare that he sank down in his chair, flushed with shame. "As far as I can recall, *Mr. Weasley*, there is nothing in the Hogwarts rules that states that it is acceptable to attempt inappropriate, complicated spells on students because they are named Malfoy."

"There should be," Black muttered, apparently not intending to be overheard.

"Sirius!" Dumbledore rebuked sternly, "Our students are all deserving of equal protection under the rules, regardless of their family name."

Snape snorted at the same time Sirius asked, "Since when?"

Dumbledore drew his fluffy, white eyebrows together, but did not comment. Percy suspected that the old wizard was storing that bit of information away for future use. McGonagall took advantage of the momentary silence to finish handing down her decree, "The identity of the student is irrelevant in this case; Mr. Malfoy has not so much as put a toe out of line since last year, Mr. Weasley. He did nothing to provoke you, and while Professor Black's involvement is significant, the bulk of the blame must still lie with you. My recommendation is suspension of Mr. Weasley's Hogsmeade privileges and detention until the beginning of the Christmas holidays," Ron opened his mouth to argue, but McGonagall silenced him with a glare, "And one hundred house points."

"A hundred! There's no way we'll win the cup now; everybody will hate me!"

"You should have thought about that before you decided to attempt such a dangerous spell on a fellow student; you demonstrated not only irresponsibility and poor judgment but also a fundamental lack of academic understanding."

Ron slumped low in his seat, frowning angrily. Percy found it difficult to feel sorry for him; not only have he done something incredibly stupid, but Percy was still afraid of what Lucius Malfoy might do.

O~O~O~O~O

"Shhh, try to rest now, son."

"I don't think I can, father," Draco replied tiredly.

Lucius stroked the side of Draco's cheek, "That's all right, my dragon, but do try. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Just stay."

"Of course." But despite Draco's assertion, he did manage to fall asleep not too long after that. Lucius watched the boy carefully to be sure that he stayed asleep, and so was startled when there was a knock at the door. Lucius immediately rose to his feet and opened the door, afraid that another knock would wake Draco.

Blaise Valini was standing in the hall with Draco's stuffed panther in his arms. "Hello, Mr. Malfoy," Blaise said quietly, "Is Draco sleeping?"

"Yes. What are you doing with that?" Lucius demanded in a whisper, pointing to the panther.

"I thought Draco might want this. Is he going to be okay? No one's told us anything; Millicent's frantic."

Lucius took the panther and narrowed his eyes, debating how much to tell the boy. "Tell Millicent that Draco will be healed in a few days."

"And after that?"

"We haven't decided yet." Blaise turned to leave, but Lucius had a thought, "Valini."

"Yeah?"

"Do you know where in this school we might obtain a wizard wireless?"

"Do you want it for music or news?"

"Why?"

"I know that you... have a problem with muggles, but if you really want music, I have a recorb full of muggle music you can borrow. I can't think of where you'd find a wireless."

"Can you command it not to play music that is too harsh?" Blaise nodded and dug the small orb out of his pocket and whispered a command to it before handing it to Lucius.

"How long do you need it for?"

"Two days; Don't worry, it will be returned to you."

Blaise smiled, "I wasn't worried. Tell Draco we all hope he feels better."

Lucius nodded and closed the door silently and sat back down beside Draco's bed. He carefully brushed a lock of Draco's pale hair out of his face and considered whether or not to play the recorb. Lucius had gotten used to having soft music playing in the background, but Draco was already sleeping well, and Lucius did not want to inadvertently wake him. Lucius placed the recorb on the bed stand and settled in to guard his son's sleep.

O~O~O~O~O

Despite Ron's and Sirius' objections, McGonagall's punishments were instated that night; the points were taken, and the detentions would begin the next day. Snape left, nettled that Ron had once again escaped expulsion. McGonagall had also gone, angrily leading Ron back to the common room to explain to his housemates why they no longer had any chance for the house cup. Dumbledore had told Sirius to go with them to help explain to Harry and Hermione what had happened; the old wizard had seemed very concerned that this whole mess could end up damaging the trio's friendship. Percy had stayed behind, still wondering why Lucius Malfoy had not charged in, wand raised, intent on cursing Ron into oblivion.

"I trust you are wondering why Lucius chose not to appear for this meeting?" Dumbledore asked him, the twinkle in his periwinkle eyes very faint.

"Yes. Do you think he might be planning some later revenge? If he was willing to lead you to you-know-who, I shudder to think of what he might do to Ron."

Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully. "I have spoken to Mr. Malfoy, and while I will not deny that he was angry, I believe that he is far more interested in Draco's welfare at the moment."

"And what happens when Draco is well? Malfoy could still come after Ron."

"He could, and I will keep an eye on Ronald. However, I have a feeling that Mr. Malfoy is more angry with me than with Ronald. Tell me, Mr. Weasley, do you believe that I favor the other houses over Slytherin?"

Percy blinked. How had he gotten lured into this conversation? He could not lie to the Headmaster, but he could not say anything negative to an authority figure either. "Umm..."

"Please feel free to be honest; if the Slytherins are being discriminated against, I need to know."

"I think... I think that most of the students have a tendency to dislike the Slytherins, and I don't think that the faculty has... done much to discourage that."

"The Slytherins do have a tendency to act out more."

"They are also the most likely to be acted out against. And I may be biased considering my brothers'... behavior, but actually, I don't think Gryffindor is that far behind Slytherin in rule breaking. I could be wrong, of course," Percy added hastily, "I don't know many of the Slytherins that well."

Dumbledore nodded absently. "Thank you, Mr. Weasley. So, how are things at the Ministry?" Percy shrugged; he had not been as excited about his job ever since got arrested. The new head of the department of International Magical Cooperation was far less organized and clear about what he wanted, and it drove Percy mad.

And to be honest, Percy had become a bit disillusioned with the Ministry ever since Minister Fudge's behavior at 's trial. The Minister had invited all the wizarding press and turned the trial into a media circus, featuring himself as the 'hero' who was going to protect the wizarding world by giving Mr. Crouch the maximum sentence of life in Azkaban.

Percy was now finding the paperwork to be the best part of his job; at least he always knew what he had to do. "Same as ever, really. Dad got a new Muggle Protection Act passed after the Death Eater attack on September first, so he's happy about that."

Dumbledore nodded, "I'm aware. I must say that Mrs. Hill did a great deal to convince certain... conservatives that muggles are not as helpless and cowardly as many chose to believe."

Percy smiled; it was nice that his father was happy with work even if Percy wasn't. "Um, perhaps I should be getting home now. Mum and Dad should be home soon, and it would be good if I were there to explain."

Dumbledore nodded, "Yes, that would probably be best, though I'm sure Ronald appreciated you coming."

Percy stood, "Thank you, sir. Good evening."

"Good evening, Percy."

O~O~O~O~O

c~c~c~c~c

"Daddy?"

"Draco, why aren't you in bed?"

"Couldn't thleep." Lucius pushed his chair back away from his desk a bit and opened his arms invitingly. Little Draco padded across the thick rug and climbed into Lucius' lap.

"Did you have a bad dream?" Draco nodded, his large eyes wide and his little fingers in his mouth. Lucius pulled out the boy's fingers and dried his tiny hand with a handkerchief, "Don't suck your fingers; you'll ruin your teeth. Do you want me to take you back to bed, or do you want to stay here?"

Draco wrapped his arms around Lucius' neck and cuddled close. "Thtay."

c~c~c~c~c

"Father?" Lucius looked up quickly; he had been so engrossed in his memories, absently stroking the warm panther, that he had not noticed Draco awaken.

Lucius managed to give Draco a warm smile while he inwardly cursed himself. "How are you feeling?"

"Still hurts." Then he noticed the panther in Lucius' lap, "Where'd you get that?"

"Your roommate brought it by; he thought you might want it. He said Millicent is worried about you."

Draco smiled, "She broke Weasley's nose."

Lucius narrowed his eyes, "Why isn't he in the hospital wing then? The nurse didn't tend to him *first*, did she?"

Draco tried to shrug, but he was bound so completely that all he could do was roll his head from side to side. "This is so *frustrating*. And I don't know; I think a house elf might have fixed him up, he was bleeding a lot."

Lucius frowned. "It wouldn't surprise me at all if they took care of that muggle-loving Gryffindor first- what is it?" Lucius noticed Draco giving him an odd look.

The boy flushed and turned his head away, "Nothing."

Lucius gently stroked Draco's hair, "You can tell me anything, son; you know that."

"Well..." Draco turned to face him, "I overheard Valini and Hill talking the other day, and Hill said that you had been talking to her Mum. Is that true?"

Lucius had been wondering when that would come back to haunt him. "Yes. I went for a walk in muggle London, got caught in the rain, and she offered me a seat in her vehicle."

"And you went," Draco said emotionlessly.

"Yes. Do you think that I shouldn't have?"

"Well, why did you?"

Lucius shrugged, "It was wet. She was curious about our world, and if there is any muggle that I could tolerate speaking to, it would be one who defeated as many Death Eaters as she did. She may even have saved my life that day, you know."

Draco's eyes opened wide, "No, I didn't know that. What was she like?" The curiosity was back; whatever else could be said about Draco, his need to know had a tendency to override just about everything else.

Lucius shrugged. "She as a lawyer. Ambitious, proud, unintimidated. I imagine that if she had been a witch, she would have been in Slytherin. What is her daughter like?"

"Very athletic, competitive. Millicent said that she threatened to throw anyone who cheats off the quidditch team; she seems to think that the reason the rest of the school believes that Gryffindor is the best at quidditch even though Slytherin has won over half of the house cups is because Slytherin always cheats."

Lucius nodded, "She may be right."

"Does Slytherin always cheat?"

"They did in my day. Didn't do them much good, though, once Potter and Black got on the team," Lucius frowned.

"Did you play?"

Lucius shook his head, "No. My father did not approve."

And Lucius would die before letting Draco know just how Abraxas had expressed his views on the matter.

"Oh."

"Do you think you could sleep some more? You really need the rest."

Draco pouted. "I don't think so. I woke up 'cause I was having bad dreams."

"Oh, precious, I'm sorry." Lucius could crucio himself for not noticing that.

"What for?"

"You should not have to suffer so."

"That's not your fault; it's Weasley's. What's going to happen to him?"

Lucius shook his head. "I don't know, but knowing Dumbledore it probably won't be much more than a slap on the wrist. If you want me to-"

"No. I don't want you to get in trouble. Millicent did break his nose, after all," Draco smirked.

"He deserves much worse," Lucius said darkly, "But I will respect your decision. Anything that I could do to actually get through to him would likely be illegal."

"There's just no way we'll get a fair shake in this place, is there?"

Lucius caressed Draco's face, sighing sadly, "No, my precious dragon, there is not. You can be home tutored, if you like, or you can go to another school. Durmstrang is too far away, and full if Death Eaters' children, but I'm sure we can find an alternative."

Draco seemed to consider it, "Do I have to decide now?"

"Of course not," Lucius replied, "You need to get well first, and then we will decide what to do."

"No dreams," Draco whined.

"How about this?" Lucius asked, taking the recorb off the bed stand, "Music helped when you were little."

"Maybe... wait, isn't that Valini's?"

"Yes."

"But it only plays muggle music."

"That is correct. But if it helps you sleep, I really do not care about that."

"Okay," Draco said warily, "If you're sure."

Lucius placed the orb back on the bed stand and commanded it to play. The song was not really all the different than wizarding music: soft, with lots of violins and trite lyrics. It worked beautifully; Draco was asleep in minutes. Lucius brushed his fringe back lovingly, "I love you so much, my precious dragon."

O~O~O~O~O

After Percy left, Albus sat alone in his office for a long time, trying to figure out where he had gone so terribly wrong. Part of it was his own upbringing, of course; members of his family had been in Gryffindor for generations, and the Slytherins were just as combative then as they were today, or rather, as they had been last year.

Blaise, Flare, and the others had really done an excellent job of reducing the hostilities; it was amazing that in less than a year they had broken down metaphorical walls that had existed for a millennia. It was not the sort of action Albus would have expected from Slytherins.

Of course, therein lay the problem; Albus had gotten exactly what he had expected from Salazar's house, and he had expected all the wrong things. He had always assumed that the Slytherins had started it; the fact that they were the aggressors and the rest of the school the victims, he had never questioned. What a fool he had been.

Severus, his dear Severus, had been driven into Voldemort's arms by a mistrustful and hurtful student body, an apathetic administration, and an abusive father from whom Albus had failed to protect him. Albus had always assumed that Severus had been his only mistake; he wondered now how many students he had lost to Voldemort due to his own prejudices. Albus suspected that Lucius was at the top of the list; an utter waste of talent, Albus could now see. And if Voldemort had not harmed Draco and raised Lucius' ire, Albus would have eventually lost the boy to him as well.

Albus resolved to speak to Sirius about this; the animagus was a good man, but he needed to realize that he, also, had been led astray for years, and allowed to do things that should never have been tolerated. The hour was late, but Albus knew he would not be able to sleep until he checked on Draco and Lucius. With a wave of his hand, he became invisible, then traveled to Draco's room.

Albus carefully passed through the door like a living specter (it had taken him years to develop that particular ability) and was touched by what he saw. Draco was asleep, his body magically bound and unnaturally still, but his youthful face relaxed was in sleep and tilted towards his father.

Lucius was awake, carefully stroking his son's pale cheek, with an expression of such tenderness on his face that Albus found it difficult to believe that this was the wizard had killed so many innocents during the war. Dumbledore was now certain that a man capable of such loving emotion would never have become a Death Eater without some pressing reason, and Albus had made it impossible for the young man to come to him instead of the Dark Lord. Dear Merlin, what had he done?

* End Chapter 8 *


	9. Speak and I'll Listen

Old Author's Note (Abridged): This chapter contains some things that were requested by reviewers (a bit if Lucius' school days, flashbacks to Crouch jr.); just my way of thanking you for sticking with me. This chapter also contains some song lyrics; I believe they added some character to certain scenes. If you don't like them, skip them.

Disclaimer: They're not mine. You knew that.

My Angel is a Dragon, My Devil is a Snake

-Catspook

Chapter 9: Speak and I'll Listen

_"...Just remember 'till you're home again, you belong to me..._

_I'll be so alone without you, maybe you'll be lonesome too..."(1)_

For the next day and a half, Lucius watched anxiously as Draco drifted in and out of a fitful sleep. At first, Lucius and Madam Pomfrey tried to coax Draco to eat, but he was having a bad reaction to the skelegrow, and could not keep anything down. After a few tries, Madam Pomfrey ordered them not to try any more, afraid that the heaving could damage Draco's new ribs.

_"I__'d like to spend a day or two._

_I can't stay that long._

_No, I've got to meet expenses…__"(2)_

The recorb played constantly during that time, usually a pleasant but indistinct background noise, but sometimes, when Draco was deeply asleep, Lucius would listen to the lyrics. Most were trite or confusing (What, by Merlin, was a yellow submarine, anyway?), but Lucius found some of the songs to be interesting, or even moving.

_"__Don't let me get me,_

_I'm my own worst enemy__..."(3)_

He again heard the song that he had spoken to Lynda about, and once he got over how brazen the lyrics were, he found himself responding powerfully to them; he spent much of his life feeling exactly that kind of self loathing. Wizarding music was always happy, fake. The Ministry put an enormous amount of effort into trying to convince the public that there was no evil in their little society, that 'normal' wizards were never plagued by disturbing, depressing, or questioning thoughts. Lucius, as much as he hated to admit it, was starting to grudgingly admire some of the muggle artists for their honesty.

_"__On my own,_

_Pretending he's beside me_

_All alone.__..."(4)_

"Lucius?"

"Get out of here," Lucius growled. He never took his eyes off Draco's face.

But Dumbledore did not leave. "Ah, I was wondering where Blaise's recorb had gotten to. It's been a quiet couple of days without it."

"I'm surprised you would sully yourself with visiting the Slytherin dungeons to hear it."

There was a very uncomfortable pause. Finally, "I have not objections to visiting the dungeons, though Severus usually prefers that I don't. I believe he thinks I make the children nervous. In any case, I was referring to the fact that Mr. Valini usually entertains us at meals with his music."

"Of course."

There was another pause, less... strained than the last. "I fear I owe you a very serious apology, Lucius."

"Save it."

"No, this needs to be said. I have come to realize that I, the entire school, really, has treated the Slytherins most unfairly for a very long time."

Lucius turned and looked at him; what was the old codger trying to pull? "This is no trick, Lucius. I am truly sorry. I see now that we lost a great many children to the dark because of a house label."

So that's what this was all about. "I am not speaking to you about Voldemort, Dumbledore."

"You love your son; that much is very clear to me now. You must have had a very pressing reason to join the Death Eaters, to commit such crimes-"

"Don't speak to me of crime, old man; you no nothing of it."

Dumbledore bristled for the first time since Draco was cursed. Lucius hoped, for his son's sake, that he had not gone too far. But Dumbledore sighed and deflated as suddenly as he had mantled. "Tell me how I can know of it, Lucius. I don't want to loose any more like you."

Lucius did not know what possessed him. It was probably a mixture of physical fatigue and emotional exhaustion that dulled his wits, but he would later curse himself for letting it slip. "Why don't you ask your transfiguration professor why I did not complete the summer work for my second year?" he hissed.

c~c~c~c~c

"Mister Malfoy, why don't you have your summer work?"

Lucius, barely twelve, did not know what possessed him. A faint hope that someone would help him, he later supposed, but he gave the stupidest reply he could have under the circumstances. "Well, I'm quite sorry, Professor," he began in a drawl, then ended in an angry hiss, "But I found it impossible to do my work locked in a damp dungeon, away from my books all summer. Perhaps I should have asked my father to bring them down when he came down to rape me."

But he never could have anticipated her reaction. She narrowed her eyes at him, "Ten points from Slytherin for the late work, Mr. Malfoy, twenty more for the lie, and two weeks detention."

He stared at her in shock. Detention? Points? He had just told her that his father *raped* him, and she took points? What was wrong with the woman? Abraxas was going to be so angry when he found out...

c~c~c~c~c

Lucius still shuddered thinking of Abraxas ' punishment for his little outburst. Lucius had never told anyone about Abraxas again, until Lestrange had found him four years later, bloody and stranded in Knockturn Alley. Lestrange had guessed most of it anyway, and promised that the Dark Lord could help, and help he did. Lucius was not ashamed of doing what he had to in order to survive, but he still shuddered to think what Riddle had allowed to happen to Draco.

And if Dumbledore actually spoke to McGonagall, he might figure it all out... To hell with it, Lucius so tired of running from Abraxas. Dumbledore hadn't revealed what had happened to Draco, and he had even less to gain from exposing Abraxas ' old crimes. At least, Lucius hoped that was the case.

Lucius did not see Dumbledore at all before he and Draco returned to the Manor. Although all of Draco's bones had been successfully grown back, Madam Pomfrey predicted that Draco would need another two weeks to recover from the incident. He needed deep, restful sleep, and the skelegrow had caused some damage to his stomach. Madam Pomfrey had also pulled Lucius aside and suggested that Draco should gain a bit of weight before he returned to school. Lucius had smugly told Draco of this, who had folded his arms huffily and pouted. "It's my body," he had replied, "I should be able to do as I like with it."

"But you are also my son," Lucius had countered, "And I worry about you. But let us return home first, before we have this conversation. It will likely be a long one."

"I guess." Draco still pouted.

Lucius hid his smile; he knew Draco would not appreciate his amusement, but it was so good to see Draco being his old, petulant self, rather than helpless and listless as he had been these past few days. Draco was still too weak to walk the distance from the hospital wing to the carriage outside, so Lucius carefully lifted him in his arms. Lucius timed it so that most students would be in classes; he knew Draco would be embarrassed if any of his classmates saw him being carried though the halls. Leaving Valini's recorb on the bedstand, Lucius slowly made his way though the deserted hallways, Draco's thin arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders.

The carriage ride was smoother than Lucius remembered it; he had always suspected that Dumbledore could have made it more pleasant if he really cared to. They arrived at the Hogsmeade floo station quickly, and soon they were home. Dibby was waiting to help transport Draco's things to his bedroom. Draco looked at Lucius oddly when he nodded to Dibby, instead of snarling at her as he usually did. He and Dibby had developed a sort of understanding in the days since Lucius' breakdown, and Lucius could not bring himself to hate her with his previous ferocity. Better to save the hate for those who truly could have done something and did not, like Dumbledore.

Draco was already nodding off when they reached his bedroom, so Lucius tucked him in for a long nap. Draco did not question it when Lucius placed the panther in his arms, he just curled up against the warm fur. Lucius kissed Draco on the temple, undeniably glad, despite the circumstances, to have his son back at home.

Draco was not happy when Lucius woke him that evening. The idea of eating nauseated him, and he felt that if he had to choke down one more slimy potion, he was going to scream. But it was hard to deny his father when he looked so concerned for him. Draco could plainly see that Lucius had been ill for some time; he had improved slightly since their last meeting, but it was very disturbing to see his father, who was usually so strong, breaking under the weight of... whatever it was that Draco's grandfather had done to him.

"Madam Pomfrey thinks that this might help settle your stomach." Lucius handed him a goblet full of some disgusting, gray substance, but Draco drank it obediently; he would have done anything to stop the horrible nausea. The potion was surprisingly tasteless, and Draco handed the empty goblet back in no time. "Let's give it a few minutes to work, hm?" Lucius doted, stoking Draco's hair. Draco could see that Lucius was glad to have him home.

"You really missed me, didn't you?" Draco asked.

Lucius smiled, "Of course I did; I told you I would."

"Is that why you got so ill? Because I wasn't here?"

Lucius froze. "I told you that none of that was your fault. You need to understand that; you are *not* responsible for any difficulties I might be having."

Draco used a line his father had used on him countless times. "But I love you. How can I not worry about you? And I know that you have been keeping things from me to keep me from worrying, but I think that's making it worse. Why won't you tell me what is wrong? Do you really think that I won't understand?"

His father looked so sad then that Draco couldn't help but feel guilty. "I think you would understand; more than you should ever have had to. But I really cannot talk about this."

"Why not?"

"I... we should talk about this later, when you are feeling better-"

"That is crap. Father, I am not a child; you said yourself that I would understand. I know I can help, please let me."

"Don't use words like that, Draco-"

"You're avoiding the subject again," Draco interrupted crossly; why wouldn't his father just tell him? "Just tell me."

"No," his father said sternly, "That is my final word on the subject. I will not, *cannot*, talk about this."

"But-"

"No, Draco. *Let it drop*."

Draco could hear not only anger, but fear in Lucius' tone. It scared Draco to hear his father's fear; his father never seemed afraid of anything. So Draco did not press Lucius anymore. Instead, Draco, feeling very uncomfortable, pulled his knees up to his chest and rested his chin on them.

"Are you cold?" Draco shook his head, but Lucius took Draco in his arms anyway, rubbing his biceps to generate heat. "You must be cold. You need to tell me if you are; you could get sick if you don't keep warm enough."

"Stupid Weasley," Draco muttered. He had thought that he'd be over the whole invalid thing for a while. Draco hated being sick. He rather enjoyed the sympathy he got, but feeling genuinely ill was not worth it. And it was making his father worry, who obviously already had enough problems.

Lucius smiled. "Are you feeling a bit better now?"

"Yeah, a bit."

"Will you eat a little for me then? It's been days."

"All right. But no soup!"

O~O~O~O~O

Lucius did not like the idea of leaving Draco to sleep alone, but the boy could not find out about Lucius' nightmares either. Lucius was utterly exhausted; he could not spend another night awake, by his son's side. His only option, then, was to return to his own bed to sleep. He was forced to explain this to Draco, to ensure that the boy would not wake up during the night, frightened to find himself alone. "Precious, do you think you could sleep alone tonight?"

"I... I guess, if you're that tired. Do you sleep better alone?" Lucius hated himself; Draco was so trusting of him.

Lucius forced a smile. "I'm afraid so. After so many years, I've grown used to it, you see. But if you really want me to stay..."

Draco smiled, but said seriously, "No, Father. I can see how tired you are. I can do it."

Lucius nodded, ashamed. He did not deserve this trust. "I'll leave Dibby with you; tell her to wake me if you need me. I mean it, you're more important-"

Draco placed his finger over Lucius' mouth, looking sad. "Don't start that again, father. You need to be taken care of too."

No, no I don't. I'm so sorry I'm not strong enough... "I'll stay here until you fall asleep," Lucius smiled, sitting next to Draco on the bed, pulling the boy into his lap.

"Okay," Draco agreed sleepily. He snuggled close, the panther once again clasped tightly in his arms. "G'night, father. Sleep well."

"You first, my dragon." Lucius guiltily stroked Draco's hair until he was sure he was asleep, then retreated to his room. He felt wretched, but his exhaustion was so severe that he was quickly asleep.

c~c~c~c~c

"Aren't you the pretty one? Let's see how pretty you scream..." Draco couldn't move. Moody was on top of him, that strange eye boring right into him. He held a dagger to Draco's throat and his other hand...

c~c~c~c~c

Draco awoke, shivering. "Thermos," he ordered the panther. It was instantly warm in his arms, but Draco kept shivering. Draco *hated* how Weasley's stupid ferret trick had triggered the nightmares once again. He had finally gotten over them, after months of waking up screaming. Damned Weasley.

"Master Draco, sir?" Dibby asked gently. Funny, she didn't sound as afraid as usual. "Is you needing anything, sir?"

Draco almost said yes, he wanted his father, but then he remembered how tired his father had looked. Draco didn't have the heart to have Dibby wake him; Draco had a better idea. "Yes, Dibby. Could you make me some hot chocolate? By hand. Magically warmed water makes it tastes... flat."

Dibby nodded. "Yeses, Master Draco, sir," and she popped away.

Draco quickly tossed the covers off and climbed out of bed. He silently crept down the hall to his father's rooms. As long as he did not wake his father, Draco figured that climbing into bed with him would be the best solution for both of them. He'd been afraid Dibby would not approve of his plan, and wake his father trying to prevent it, but Draco also knew that she would never wake Lucius on purpose. As long as he reached his father's rooms before she realized he was gone, Draco would be safe from her meddling.

Very, very quietly, Draco opened his father's bedroom door. Lucius was clearly asleep; the bed curtains were half drawn revealing his slumbering form. Oddly enough, a candelabrum by his father's bed was still lit, adding to the illumination from the fireplace. Draco had never known that his father preferred to sleep in the light. But never mind that, Draco determinedly crept to his father's bed and ever so carefully climbed under the covers. Smiling to himself, Draco slid one arm over his father's waist and gently cuddled against his strong back. He was soon once again sleeping peacefully.

c~c~c~c~c

"Please, little one, please sleep for me. You need your rest and Daddy's tired too." Lucius rocked his infant son, but Draco would not sleep. Sniffling and hiccupping, the baby refused to be soothed, and Lucius was so tired... Death Eater activities were on the rise, and Lucius was being run ragged trying to maintain his positions on the Hogwarts board of Governors and the Ministry and fulfill all the tasks the Dark Lord demanded of him. And there was no one Lucius trusted to take care of Draco as well as Lucius himself could.

Normally, Draco was a joy to Lucius, and taking care of him would give Lucius the energy he needed to fulfill his duel roles. But Draco had been especially fussy for the past two weeks, and the mediwizard had warned that the infant could cause harm to himself by not sleeping as well as he should. Lucius was terrified that Draco might make himself ill, and this worry, on top of his other duties, was exhausting him. If only Draco would sleep...

"Please, my dragon, please. Shhh, rest now. That's it, no more crying." Finally, through the haze of fatigue settled over his brain, Lucius noticed that Draco was indeed no longer crying. Glancing at the infant, Lucius saw he was fast asleep, his tiny arms wrapped around Lucius neck, and his perfect, little head resting on Lucius' shoulders. He was so beautiful... Lucius did not have the strength to put the boy back in his cradle. "I love you," Lucius sighed as he drifted off, his baby a warm weight against his side...

c~c~c~c~c

Lucius slowly awoke from his first pleasant dream in... he could not remember how long. At first, he thought that he was not fully awake, as he could still feel the warmth of his son pressed against his side. Then he assumed that it was the stuffed dragon he was leaning against, but then he noticed a pale arm draped over his waist.

"Draco?"

"Hm?" Draco blinked sleepily, then he smiled. "Good morning, father. Did you sleep well?"

Lucius stared at Draco, breathless with fear. But he finally managed to calmly ask, "Draco, why are you in bed with me?"

Draco, unaware of the anxiety he had caused, or how close he had come to... just shrugged. "I had a nightmare. I did not want to wake you, and I figured since you were already asleep I would not be disturbing you."

"Draco," Lucius said severely, "I told you to wake me if you needed me."

Draco shrugged again, still unaware of the gravity of the situation. "You looked so tired, I didn't want to wake you. I didn't see the need."

"Draco," Lucius replied, finally letting some of his fear and anger creep into his voice, "That was *extremely* dangerous; don't you *ever* do that again."

Draco gazed up at him with wide eyes, "But why? You've slept with me before."

How could Lucius explain to Draco that Lucius could easily have been caught in the grips of a nightmare and hurt Draco in his sleep last night? Dear Merlin, he could have hit him, or cursed him, or... Lucius did not want to think about it. But he couldn't tell Draco that; not only would it cause Draco to worry, he would also likely be angry that Lucius had kept the truth from him. As always, this was all Lucius' fault; Draco could have gotten hurt... Oh, what could he say? "Draco, you should not be wandering about the Manor alone at night. If you had fallen and gotten hurt, neither Dibby nor I would know where to find you-"

"That is bullshit!" Draco snapped.

"Watch your language," Lucius snapped back. He immediately regretted it, but Draco did not seem to notice.

"No! You are hiding things from me again! There's something really wrong, and you won't let me know what it is! All I can do is sit and worry while you fall apart, and all the while you are still treating me like a damn child!"

"You are a child!"

Lucius expected Draco to keep yelling at him, possibly even slap him -the boy did have quite a temper- but he did not. Draco stared at Lucius, his wide, silver eyes unusually bright. Finally, in a tear choked voice, he said, "If that's what you think of me, then I'm just going to go to my room and curl up with my teddy, and you can do your big, important adult stuff and *leave me the hell alone*!"

Lucius was too shocked to go after Draco when he climbed of the bed and stumbled out of the room. He'd made Draco cry, and undermined his delicate self-image. Lucius did think of Draco as still his little boy, but that did not mean he thought him incompetent or ignorant. It was just that Lucius would always want to hold and protect him. It was also a convenient excuse to throw at Draco whenever he started asking questions that Lucius was too weak to answer. This was all Lucius' fault; he had hurt his precious son terribly, and he did not know how to fix it without hurting him even more. He was so stupid, so useless. Despite himself, Lucius began to sob; he felt so helpless, so disgusted by himself. What had he done?

O~O~O~O~O

Draco threw himself down onto his bed and curled up into a tight ball. Why did his father insist on treating his like a baby? Was he really that helpless? What was it that his father was hiding that he thought Draco couldn't handle? Was his father sick? Was he dying? The questions were driving Draco mad, and the thought that his father did not trust him with the truth hurt more than he wanted to admit. Lucius had issues; Draco knew that. But Draco also knew that he kept needing his father to save him. He couldn't even handle Weasley on his own; his father had good cause not to respect him. Didn't he?

Draco was so confused. He spent a long time lying in bed, trying to make sense of the situation. He jumped, startled, when there was a knock at his door.

"Draco?" he heard his father ask quietly, "May I please come in?"

Draco's first impulse was to shout 'No!', but his father sounded... hesitant, uncertain; he might have been intending to apologize. "Are you going to tell me the truth?" Draco asked.

"As much as I am able," Lucius replied hesitantly.

"Come in," Draco sniffed; wiping away tears he had not known he had cried.

The door opened slowly, and Lucius entered, his head bowed in a subservient manner. "Draco, I am so sorry. I never meant for you to think that I don't think you are capable or intelligent. I love you, and I do trust you. It's just that I don't want to lose you-"

"You won't. Father, I know that this must be something really big for you to hide it from me like this, but I'm not a little kid. I can handle it."

"That's not exactly what I meant. I am... afraid. I see you becoming more self-sufficient all the time, and soon you won't need me at all. And what will I do then? That's terribly selfish of me, I know..."

"Oh, father, that's not what this whole thing is about..."

"No. I just had to explain to you why I still like to think of you as my child. I don't know if I can explain the other... matter."

"Why not?"

"It...hurts. I..." Draco watched, concerned, as Lucius' eyes became unfocused and he started rocking back and fourth very slightly.

Draco carefully climbed to his feet. "Father? What's wrong? Are you all right?"

Lucius blinked several times, his face still eerily expressionless. "You see, I... I've been..."

"Father?" Draco very carefully approached Lucius. What was wrong with him? Draco was starting to get very scared. Draco very carefully placed a hand on his father's arm. Lucius instantly froze. "Father? Are you all right?"

"No, Draco, I'm not." Finally, Lucius' eyes seemed to focus. Draco thought he could see tears forming in them.

Draco was now terribly frightened. What had he done? He was starting to think that he did not want to hear what was wrong after all. "Father, why don't you come sit down." Lucius stumbled to the bed, Draco following him closely.

Lucius sat heavily and placed his head in his hands. "Draco, my precious, I do love you, and I do trust you, but I just don't know if I can talk about this..."

Draco was scared, but he could see how much his father must have been agonizing about whatever 'this' was. In truth, he was not sure that he could handle whatever was troubling his father so, but he also knew, from personal experience, that it was usually better to confide in someone. He wanted to help his father. "Father, please. I can see how much you are hurting. Whatever it is, you will probably feel better if you can tell someone. Tell me, please." Two 'pleases' at once: that was probably a record for Draco.

"I... you are probably right, but I don't want to burden you-"

"I want to be burdened. Tell me."

"If you are certain..."

Draco was getting more doubtful by the second, but he answered, "I am."

"I... this is so difficult... I've been struggling with memories… and nightmares. I did not want you in my bed because I was afraid that I might have had a nightmare and inadvertently hurt you."

"Are they... about your father?"

"Yes."

Draco really did not want to hear this, but his father needed help so badly. "Tell me about them."

"No, no I can't," Lucius was still hiding his face in his hands, but Draco could hear that he was close to crying.

"Please, father. You need to tell someone, if not me, someone else; or write it in a journal or something. Father, I can see this is killing you." Draco knew that he was blinking back tears, but he could not bring himself to care so much right now.

Unexpectedly, Lucius hugged Draco tightly. Draco hugged him back. "I cannot tell anyone these things, precious; I haven't the courage."

"Then write them down, anything, just get them out of you."

Lucius pulled back a bit, stroking Draco's cheek like he used to when Draco was very young. "If you insist, I will try to write them down. For you."

Draco returned to the safety of his father's embrace. "I just want you to be all right again."

"Oh, precious, I was never all right," Lucius murmured to himself. Lucius didn't sound as if he expected Draco to hear it, but Draco did.

* End Chapter 9*

Disclaimer 2:

_(1)"_You Belong to Me" by Jo Stafford

_(2)_"The Entertainer" by Billy Joel (This is Blaise's theme song)

_(3)_"Don't Let Me Get Me" by Pink

_(4)_ "On My Own" from Les Miserables


	10. Life and Lawsuits

Old Author's Note (Abridged): I got a request for Lucius to use a pensive instead of write his experiences; that's a good idea, but I intend to do something with Lucius' writings, so I must stick with that. Also, I don't think that Lucius is emotionally ready to share his experiences with Draco in detail yet, but once again, the writings come into play. Also, I should warn you that Lucius does some odd things in this chapter, like purchase a stereo. I see it as a sort of teenage rebellion thing twenty years too late (Lucius is quite emotionally stunted, after all). All flames regarding this will be ignored.

Disclaimer: They're not mine. You knew that.

My Angel is a Dragon, My Devil is a Snake

-Catspook

Chapter 10: Life and Lawsuits

Lucius, as always, kept his promise to Draco. Every night, after Draco was soundly asleep, Lucius sat in his office and wrote about Abraxas in a heavily charmed journal. At least, he tried to write about Abraxas. The first few nights, all he could do was grip the quill tightly, shaking like newborn puppy, awash in memories. He felt like he had been dropped in a den of dementors. And even when he managed write any of it down, the effort left him drained and shaken. He dared not even attempt to sleep until hours later.

Finally, a week after he had given Draco that promise, Lucius' thoughts of dementors produced another thought. Lucius had never been able to produce a patronus until after Draco was born. It was no surprise to Lucius that his patronus took the form of a dragon; only thoughts of Draco were ever joyous enough for Lucius to base the spell on. That night, after Lucius had finished writing about Abraxas ' reaction to Lucius' fourth year marks, he staggered to Draco's room.

Lucius was extremely careful not to wake him, but he could not help but skim his fingertips over Draco's corn silk hair. His son looked so beautiful, so innocent in sleep; Lucius knew that he did not deserve Draco. But deserving or not, Lucius had him in his life. Lucius returned to his own bed, feeling, for the first time in months, that he might sleep peacefully through the night.

O~O~O~O~O

Draco woke the next morning feeling a bit more rested than the day before. He was quickly recovering from the Weasel's 'prank', but he would soon have to decide what to do. Lucius had made it perfectly clear that it was Draco's decision whether he would go back to Hogwarts or not. Draco had to admit that he did not feel entirely safe there, and he really did prefer to be home, but... Somehow, Draco always seemed to came back to 'but'. Every argument he came up with had an equally convincing counter-argument. Draco did not know what to do.

Draco smiled at his father when he entered holding a tray laden with breakfast. "We could eat in the dining room, you know."

"You need to rest," Lucius replied as if he were making a holy pronouncement; 'you need to rest' had become his watchword ever since Draco came home. Draco wanted to tell his father that he did not have to baby him so much, but Draco rather liked being pampered.

"How did you sleep?" Draco asked carefully.

Lucius smiled, "Quite well. How did you sleep?"

"Fine."

They did not speak for a while; Draco because he was eating and Lucius because he did not seem to say much anymore unless Draco spoke first. After breakfast, Draco decided it was time to bring up the subject again. "Father? I don't know if I want to go back to school, and I don't know how to decide."

"Well," Lucius began a bit hesitantly, "You have three choices; you can stay home and be tutored, you can go back to Hogwarts, or you can go to a different school."

"I don't want to go to a new school."

"Your choice, then, is between home and Hogwarts."

"What do you think?"

"I think you need to make this decision for yourself." Seeing the put out look on Draco's face, Lucius seemed to feel the need to elaborate, "I don't mean to put a great burden on your shoulders, but I want you to make your decision based on what you want, not what you think I want. I want you to be happy; where would you be happier?"

Draco shook his head, "I don't know. My first thought is that I never feel as safe as I do at home, but I don't want to be stuck here for the rest of my life. I don't know what to do; I don't want to mess it up."

"You don't have to decide right now, and any decision you do make is not set in stone. You can always change your mind."

"It's not that easy. I could end up on a completely different schedule from the school one."

"True, but I'm sure Severus would help you with that."

"Yeah... do you think he'd like me to go back?"

Lucius seemed to consider this for a long time. "I think he probably would like you to return, but not if staying home was what you truly wanted."

"I don't know what I want."

Lucius wrapped one arm around Draco's shoulders and hugged him affectionately, "That's all right, but you should not try to decide what you want using what you think others want you to do. Neither Severus nor I have the right to decide how you live your life."

"I guess."

"Do you need anything else?"

Draco shook his head, "Not right now. Can I go outside a bit today?"

Lucius frowned slightly. "I don't know. It's quite cool out now, but it may become warmer this afternoon. You have to be careful..."

"...Not to catch cold. Yes, I know. But I'm bored," Draco pouted.

"Would you like to play chess?"

"No. I've had quite enough of chess for the time being, thank you."

"Hmm..." But Lucius did not have the chance to propose another activity, as Dibby popped into Draco's bedroom, holding a letter aloof like a trophy.

"Master Draco sir is having mail, sir. Wouldses Master Draco sir like to take his letter now, sir?" Draco snatched the letter from her long fingered hands and ripped it open. It was from Millicent. Draco smiled as he read it.

_Dear Draco,_

_How are you feeling? Blaise said that your father said you would be fine, but he did not say how long it would take, and I want to hear it from you. Are you coming back to Hogwarts? Blaise said that hadn't been decided yet. I want you to come back; most of the Slytherins do, even Blaise. In case you didn't know, Weasley lost a hundred house points and got his Hogsmeade privileges revoked and detention until Christmas because of what he did to you. Blaise said he would have gotten more, but Black kind of put him up to it. Dumbledore is really mad at Black; he made him give a public apology to all the kids he cursed, and I think he has to write you one too. Dumbledore is going out of his way to be nice to Slytherins now; it's really quite weird. Everyone thinks he's planning something big, so no one really trusts him. Everyone really hates Weasley now, too; the Slytherins because he cursed you and everyone else because we are almost certain to win the cup now._

_The first quidditch game is Slytherin versus Ravenclaw, on November 23. I'm really nervous; I don't know if I'll be good enough. I hope you are going to be there. Anyway, I hope you feel better and come back soon._

_Sincerely,_

_Millicent_

Millicent was the best friend Draco had ever had; Crabbe and Goyle certainly never would have written him if he was ill; he hadn't even heard from them since they transferred to Durmstrang. Draco guessed had always known that they weren't really his friends. Draco now knew that he had to go back; not just to make Millicent happy, but because if he'd didn't go back, he'd be losing something that was really important to him. Draco just hoped his father would understand when he told him. He was going to wait a few days, because he did not want Lucius second-guessing his decision, saying it was made in haste. Still smiling, Draco folded the letter and carefully placed it in his pocket.

"Good news?" Lucius asked mildly.

"Yeah."

O~O~O~O~O

"Goodbye, precious," Lucius said, forcing himself to smile. He hugged Draco tightly, unhappy that once again he would be without him for weeks.

"Goodbye, father. Thank you for taking care of me."

"Of course, son, of course. Remember, if you need me at any time..."

"...I can owl you; I know. Don't worry; I'll be fine. The Christmas hols are only four weeks away anyway."

"I know, but I will miss you." Lucius was starting to feel that emptiness again. The nightmares had abated somewhat since Draco had been home, but he was sure that they would soon return full force.

"I'll miss you too. I have to go now or I'll be late for my first class."

"Run along then. I'll owl you soon." Draco gave Lucius one more quick hug before running into the castle. Lucius was left alone at the front gates, once again trying to think of somewhere else to go so that he did not have to return to that dark, empty Manor alone. Lucius finally decided to apparate to Diagon Alley and begin looking for Draco's Yule gifts; he wanted to avoid the crowds as much as possible this year.

Lucius ordered a firebolt for Draco and bought him some books. He considered getting Draco an invisibility cloak or a Hand of Glory, but decided that he did not want Draco wandering about the Manor or the castle at night. All the drafty air could make him very ill, and there was no telling what his curiosity might get him into. Furthermore, Lucius was avoiding Knockturn Alley these days; considering how interested the media seemed to be in him of late, he did not think it was the best time to be dealing in the Dark Arts.

Lucius perused almost every shop in Diagon Alley. He came across Molly Weasley at the pet shop (she was purchasing a new owl), but they merely glared poisonously at each other. The arrogant witch didn't even have the decency to apologize for what her son had done to Draco.

In a foul temper, Lucius once again headed to the Leaky Cauldron, and once again, he found himself fleeing into the muggle world. This time, no vehicle pulled up to him; no one spoke to him. Many of the muggles gave him odd looks, and Lucius remembered what Lynda had told him about his clothes. He noticed that the muggle men all wore trousers, and most had short hair. Not that Lucius really cared what the muggles thought of him.

Finally, Lucius found himself glancing into a 'music shop'. Lucius did not see how the shop could claim that title, as there were no actual instruments inside, only large, black boxes of different types and what looked like orderly shelves of very small books. He at first thought that the large, black boxes were wirelesses, but they were far too large and many were attached to other boxes.

His curiosity piqued, Lucius actually entered the shop; he noticed that there were several men with long hair standing behind the counter or looking at the odd books and boxes. Upon closer inspection, however, Lucius realized that the small objects were not books at all; they were boxes as well, made out of a strange material that Lucius had heard referred to as 'plastic'. The boxes were labeled according to title and what Lucius guessed to be composer, but Lucius did not see how these boxes could possibly produce music.

Lucius wandered up and down the isles looking for all the world to be an ordinary customer, but he was really searching for a clue as to how these strange boxes worked. Finally, one of the store's employees (a bizarre fellow with many earrings all over his face and blue, spiked hair) provided another customer a demonstration, and Lucius watched out the corner of his eye. The clerk opened one of the thin, square boxes and pulled out a very shiny disk. He then pressed some buttons on one of the large black boxes, and a platform emerged from it. He then placed the disk on the platform and pushed the platform back into the box. Music immediately began to emanate from the black box.

"...As you can hear, the sound quality is brilliant. We have a smaller system, but if you really want to *feel* the bass, you want one with a lot of power..."

The music was horrid. Crashing drums, unbearably loud bass, and some sort of instrument that wailed and screeched drowned out most of the lyrics. What Lucius managed to hear and understand was laced with foul language and pornographic images. Reeling in disgust, Lucius snapped at an employee emerging from a back storage room, "This profanity is not truly your idea of music, is it?"

The employee, a normal looking woman with long, brown hair replied, "I'm sorry, sir; it is our policy not to play these types of lyrics the shop, if you would excuse me..." She then marched up the blue haired boy and pressed a button on the black box. The 'music' ceased. After dealing with the customer (he needed to "think about it"), the woman ordered the boy into the back room then turned back to Lucius. "Again, I apologize, sir. Is there anything I can help you with?"

He did not know what compelled him to do it, whether it was curiosity or merely procrastination, but Lucius replied, "Yes, how much do one of these 'systems' cost?"

The woman smiled the exact same 'selling' smile that the retailers on Diagon Alley smiled when they saw a Malfoy enter their shops, "Well, this model here..."

The next day, having changed a pile of galleons into 'pounds', Lucius returned to the music shop. He purchased a small 'system' and a large bag full of the shiny music disks (he had been told they were called 'compact disks' or 'CDs'). Most he chose based on what he had heard over Valini's recorb, but there was also booth of sorts in the shop where he could listen to samples of music through a set of very heavy, black earmuffs. When he found a song he liked, he ordered that CD. He went home with over thirty. The shopkeeper also assured him that he could later improve his 'system' by adding extra 'amplifiers' if he so desired.

The 'system' proved a thoroughly distracting puzzle. He positioned it on a table not far from his bed, stacking the CDs next to it alphabetically, according to composer. He then sat in a comfortable chair and read the book-like 'instructional manual' from cover to cover; if he was going to do this, he intended to do it right. He understood about every three words in the manual, but based on the pictures, he slowly came to understand that for the 'system' to work, he had to shove its tail into a peculiar socket in the wall. The Manor being a wizard's dwelling, there was, of course, no socket available.

Very put out that he had ended up spending so many galleons on a 'system' he could not use, Lucius angrily flipped through the manual again until he came upon a section labeled 'mobile features'. As the device was clearly designed to be usable away from walls, Lucius realized that there had to be another way for it to work; Lucius was then introduced to the concept of 'batteries'.

Having realized that he needed these 'batteries', Lucius returned to muggle London with the instruction book in hand. He found another store with black boxes displayed in the window (some of them had paintings on the front, which kept changing backgrounds). Imperiously, he demanded of the shopkeeper, "I need 'batteries' for my system" and shoved the book into his hands.

The shopkeeper gave him a quizzical look but replied, "Very well, we keep the batteries next to the counter." And ten minutes later, Lucius was back at the Manor, batteries in hand. Using the pictures in the 'manual', Lucius inserted the batteries successfully, then attempted to insert a disk. He discovered that finding the right button was much harder than the shopkeeper had made it look. When the platform finally emerged, Lucius had to figure out how to get the disk out of the little plastic claws that held it in place. By the time he had managed that without damaging the disk (they looked terribly fragile) the platform had retracted itself. Thankfully, Lucius remembered the location of the extension button after the third try. Remembering that the blue-haired boy had put the disk in shiny side down, Lucius placed the disk on the platform and pushed it in.

Feeling immeasurably satisfied with himself, Lucius waited for his music, but all he heard was a whirring sound. Frowning, Lucius examined each and every button on the system trying to figure out how to get the music to play. Aha! There was a 'play' button, what luck! Lucius pressed it, and after more whirring, music finally began to emanate for Lucius' system. Lucius grinned happily; he'd done it! As much as he hated to admit it, muggles were obviously more competent, at certain things, than Lucius had given them credit for.

Only after he had settled himself in an armchair to listen to his new music did Lucius realize that he had not had a single memory of Abraxas all day. Lucius smiled slyly thinking about how affronted Abraxas would have been if he had known that a muggle box could now command Lucius' attention better than Abraxas himself.

Happily, Lucius also discovered that playing with his 'system' helped calm him after writing about his experiences with Abraxas (just because Draco was no longer there didn't mean that Lucius could give up on the promise he had made). Lucius also discovered that a muggle wireless was built into his new system, and there were many more muggle wireless stations than wizard. Lucius perused them all. He found stations that played music like he had bought on his disks and discovered that they were an effective way to find new disks he wanted to buy without returning to the shop and wearing those silly earmuffs. He also found stations that played the blue haired kid's sort of 'music' (he avoided those). Muggle classical music, he found, was not very different from wizarding classical music. He also discovered that muggles had stations that only broadcast news, or other 'talk programs'; he did not really care for those.

After many hours of exploration, Lucius decided that while he preferred the honesty of some muggle music, he still was not interested in muggle culture in general. Some of the problems they had would be laughably easy to solve if only they had magic, while others were completely new to Lucius and confused him. He also discovered that most of the news was bad; this confirmed his impression that muggle culture was fundamentally flawed. Much like wizarding culture really, but muggle culture did not include his precious son and was therefore irredeemable.

All in all, Lucius found much to distract him from his memories of Abraxas, and the Christmas holidays seemed to come sooner than he expected them to. On December 18th Lucius arrived an hour early at King's Cross station, so eager was he to see Draco.

Instead of apparating directly to King's Cross, Lucius apparated to Diagon Alley and walked the rest of the way; the exercise was good for him, and he enjoyed peeking into music shops to see if they had different systems than the one he owned. In one shop, he saw much larger disks made out of black plastic, and he wondered what they were and why the shop he went to didn't have them. He concluded that because the shop with the black disks advertised 'second hand records', the black disks were for poor people, while the smaller, shiny ones were for the wealthy.

Smiling to himself that he had immediately chosen the higher status disks, Lucius sauntered over to the barrier between platforms nine and ten, surprised to see Lynda there. She smiled at him, "Good afternoon, Lucius. How have you been?"

Lucius actually managed to smile a genuine smile of his own, "Better than expected, thank you. How have you been?"

"Very well. I've just come from a client's office; my deposition ended early, so I've found myself arriving quite early to meet Flare. Would you mind walking me through the barrier?"

For obvious reasons, muggles could not pass through the barrier onto platform 9 3/4 unless a wizard or witch walked them through; this allowed for muggle parents to accompany their children to the Hogwarts express without having emotional goodbyes or greetings in front of the barrier (after an incident involving a muggle mother, her magical twins, a station security guard, and a tourist with a camera, the Ministry had come to realize that they wanted to avoid drawing attention to the barrier). Lucius nodded agreeably and extended his arm to Lynda; as far as muggles went, Lucius found her to be the most interesting and capable of the lot.

"Thank you," Lynda said once they were through the barrier. "I'd have hated to have ended up hanging around there for an hour; they told us not to draw attention to the barrier."

"Not at all. In fact, being seen escorting you would probably be good for my reputation; the Daily Prophet still marvels over your part in the battle of King's Cross. Few muggles would have been able to do what you did."

She waved her hand dismissively, "For most people it's a matter of discipline. If they bothered to put in the effort to train as I did, they would be able to defend themselves too. Some people, of course, have real limitations, but must people are just too lazy to even bother to discover what those limitations are, and they are usually far beyond what you think they are if you put in the proper effort."

"Quite true. I hear that your Flare is doing wonders for the Slytherin quidditch team; we might even have a chance to beat Gryffindor this year."

"We? You were a Slytherin, then?"

"Of course. The Malfoys have been in Slytherin for centuries."

"Really? How odd; Flare told me that the houses were sorted according to personality traits. Are all Malfoys so similar in personality then?"

If Lucius had been in a less positive mood, he may have taken great offense at that comment. As it was, he considered it thoroughly before answering. "In some ways, we are all very similar, though we may differ in other ways. In any case, house is truly determined by personal choice; most of us were in Slytherin because we desired to be surrounded by those as ambitious and cunning as ourselves."

"Ah yes, now I remember Flare telling me that that Potter kid got into Gryffindor because he asked to be. I didn't understand at the time why that mattered so much, but he's some kind of celebrity or something, isn't he?"

Lynda now had Lucius' full attention; the sorting hat had not automatically placed Potter in Gryffindor? "What house did the hat intend to put Potter in?"

"I think Flare said Slytherin." Slytherin? Dear Merlin, what was Dumbledore going to hide from them next? Although it did explain Potter's liaison with Valini; the 'true' Gryffindors were probably not his type.

As few other people were on the platform, and they both had an hour to kill, Lucius and Lynda commandeered a bench and talked about, what else, their children. Lucius discovered that Lynda had gotten pregnant with Flare earlier than she intended, but she and her husband, a professional football player (whatever that was), has decided to go ahead and have the baby. Because of this, Lynda felt that she had not really been ready for children, and she often had doubts about how well she had done with Flare.

"She just doesn't talk to me much, you see, so I worry that she doesn't feel she can. What about Draco, does he tell you much?"

"Quite a bit this year. Not so much before." Lucius did not elaborate; he did not want to talk about that. Lynda seemed to sense this, and she changed the topic.

"So do unicorns really exist?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't they?"

"Is it true that they can only be captured by virgins?" Lucius gave Lynda an odd look.

"No, though they strongly prefer females over males, and have a moderate preference for the young woman over old."

"I see. What about dragons? Can they really breathe fire and fly?"

"Some breeds can do both, some can do one or the other, and some can do neither."

"Hm. Are there dragons in Britain?"

"Yes."

"So how is it that they haven't been spotted by muggles?"

Lucius smirked, "They are, but the ministry alters people's memories so that forget the experience."

"What? You can do that?" Lynda looked extremely offended.

"Yes. In the case of dragons, it's necessary in order to protect wizards, dragons, and muggles."

Lynda narrowed her eyes, "How does that protect muggles?"

"If muggles knew that dragons were real, some would try to hunt them and get themselves killed."

"Well, anyone who's stupid enough to do that deserves it. Though I have to agree with you on the protecting the dragons part; they'd instantly become the most desired trophy animal. Do wizards hunt them?"

"Yes, though there is a limit on how many can legally be killed every year. There are poachers, of course, but the penalty for poaching in Britain is very harsh, and that discourages most would-be trophy seekers."

"What is the penalty?"

"One to three years in Azkaban and a very stiff fine; the prison sentence is longer if the fine can't be paid."

"I assume Azkaban is the wizards' prison?"

"Yes," Lucius shivered, "It's a horrible place."

"You've been there?"

"Yes, for Ministry business." That what an outright lie, but Lucius wasn't about to admit the truth to Lynda.

"What's so horrible about it?"

"The dementors; they consume all the positive feelings from the prisoners. Most go mad."

Lynda looked horrified, "That is not only barbaric and a heinous violation of human rights, it's utterly ridiculous! What happens to the prisoners after they are released; they live in a state hospital on government money? You're loosing all the possible productivity those prisoners could produce! What idiot thought up that system?"

"The minister after the Grindewald war; they wanted to punish the dark wizards as much as possible and they needed something to do with the dementors he had bred." Lucius had to admit; Lynda's argument made a lot of sense. If the dementors were an effective deterrent, after all, Voldemort would never have risen.

"Someone should do something about that. Surely the families, if not the prisoners themselves, could file a lawsuit. They did it for Alcatraz."

"Alcatraz is a muggle prison?"

"Was. They closed it down decades ago because it was too expensive. Before they closed, they had to make a lot of changes because they were driving prisoners insane. There was a successful lawsuit filed on behalf of a prisoner who was kept in solitary, in the dark, for three years."

Lucius considered this. He did not really want to get involved, but it did seem like someone aught to do something, didn't it? "Suggest the idea to Sirius Black; he has as much a right to sue as anyone, and he's actually capable of testifying for you."

"Isn't he the DADA professor?"

"Yes, but before that, he was in Azkaban for twelve years."

Lynda's eyes opened wide, "What did he do?"

"Nothing. He was framed."

"Hmm." Lynda then got a very devious, sly look on her face, and Lucius almost pitied Fudge.

* End Chapter 10*


	11. A Christmas Interlude

Disclaimer: They're not mine. You knew that.

My Angel is a Dragon, My Devil is a Snake

-Catspook

Chapter 11: A Christmas Interlude

Blaise watched, pleased, as Draco stepped off the train, waved to Millicent, then practically ran to his father, hugging him tightly. Blaise had always felt a twisted sort of sense of gratitude towards his roommate; at the first welcoming feast, Draco had spent half the meal announcing to the general assembly how much he hated muggle-borns. While some students had hidden resentful expressions, many had loudly agreed with him. In this manner, Blaise had been able to learn, not only a lot about the history of prejudice in the magical world, but also that revealing himself to be the bastard son of a muggle prostitute would not be prudent. This had likely saved him a great deal of discomfort.

After seeing how much blood seemed to matter in the serpent's den, Blaise had decided that the best way to avoid trouble would be to blend into the background and give no one reason to probe into his history. This tactic had been reinforced when had come to know the few other muggle-borns in Slytherin, who had bonded together to hide their shared secret. But trying so hard to avoid notice had become quite tiresome over the course of those three and a half years; Blaise knew that he was born to be in the spotlight. Blaise's ambition was to be an international rock star, an ambition that had not changed in the least when he had discovered that he was a wizard.

Even so, Hogwarts had been a Godsend; the education, although it did not directly teach muggle subjects, was infinitely superior to the education he could have gotten in his old neighborhood, one of the poorest, most dangerous in London. And Blaise had been introduced to a whole new world in which he found both inspiration and a potential audience; there was an enormous vacuum in wizarding music that Blaise fully intended to fill.

But Blaise was once again leaving to luxury of Hogwarts for his mum's dilapidated flat. All his wizard friends wondered why he did not stay at Hogwarts for Christmas, and Harry had repeatedly offered to have Blaise over at the house he shared with his godfather, but Blaise was not going to miss singing in Father DiMartino's choir on Christmas Eve for anything. So after kissing Harry goodbye, Blaise walked to the baggage car and hummed the password that made his trunk shrink to the size of a breadbox and shoved it into his satchel. He took the tram as far as necessary, then walked the rest of the way to conserve his meager savings.

Despite the cold and the depressing surroundings, he was joyously humming Christmas carols. Blaise found it difficult to be unhappy for long. He could feel sad, even heartbroken, if the occasion called for it, but it was in Blaise's nature to be amused and entertained by the peculiarities of life.

Blaise jogged up the broken steps of his building, stumbled through the front door, hopped up the side stairs to the third floor, and knocked on the door to the flat. Most people would have probably tried the knob then entered, but Blaise had learned at a young age that there was just know way of telling what he might walk in on; neither his mum not her live-in boyfriend had any qualms about engaging in certain... activities anywhere in the three room flat.

"'O th'ell is it?" Blaise's Mum's boyfriend, Sid, growled form the other side of the door.

"Blaise. I'm comin' in."

"Like *'ell* you are!" Sid, the blood vessels in his face and eyes broken in the classic drunk style, yanked open the door. Blaise immediately noticed a woman who was not his mother naked on the couch, but he kept his attention on Sid; Blaise had quickly learned that Sid could be quite violent. "Yer mum's dead, brat. Don't you come back 'ere!"

Blaise's jaw dropped. "Dead? When? How?"

"How yeh think? Drank 'erself to death. Th'flat's *mine* now. Get outta 'ere, or you'll be seein' yer mum sooner an' yeh think." He slammed to door in Blaise's face. Dead? His mum was dead? Yes, he had told her more than once that her drinking was bound to kill her, but he did not expect it to happen this soon. What was he to do?

Mulling over his problem, Blaise turned to the streets, but he was not traveling in any specific direction. He couldn't go to muggle children services; there'd be questions about where he had been going to school, and whomever's custody he ended up in would find out that he was a wizard; they might even forbid him to return to Hogwarts. And for those reasons, Blaise also could not run to Father DiMartino as he would normally do in a crisis; the priest was bound to alert children's services. Had Blaise been any other boy in this situation, that would have been the right thing, but Father DiMartino did not know Blaise was a wizard, nor could Blaise tell him.

That left the wizarding world. Blaise knew that the house Harry shared with his Godfather was in London, but it was also unplottable, meaning he would never be able to find it on his own. He could go to Dumbledore, but Blaise did not have any wizard money on him for the Knight bus. That left Diagon Alley; surely the ministry could help him? Of course, whether they would was another matter entirely, but there wasn't much choice, was there? Sighing heavily, he made his way back towards the tram.

O~O~O~O~O

After getting off the train, Draco, who loved to be outside, had readily agreed to walk to Diagon Alley with is father and floo home from there. But by the time they arrived at the Leaky Cauldron it was time for dinner, so Lucius suggested that they eat at Draco favorite restaurant. Draco, of course, thought it was a marvelous idea, and they spent a very pleasant meal talking about all manner of things, from quidditch to Lucius' new 'system'.

Draco was at first appalled that his father would stoop to buying a *muggle* device (it reminded him of Arthur Weasley, ugh!). But eventually, Draco came to realize how much the 'system' helped his father, and he decided it was "acceptable". And the more Draco thought about it, the more he had to fight the little part of himself that thought the whole concept was fascinating and wanted to run home and fiddle with his father's new toy.

By the time they finished dinner, the weather had turned bad, and they hurried along the street to the public floo station protected by a shielding charm Lucius had cast over them both of. Draco jumped as he heard a door slam, and a loud, "Dammit!" shouted in a familiar voice.

"Blaise?"

"What? Oh, hullo, Draco, Mr. Malfoy." Blaise's normally irrepressibly cheerful voice seemed dull and flat to Draco, and were those tears in his eyes?

"Is something the matter?"

"N- wait. I hate to ask, but I don't suppose you have any floo powder I can borrow? I can pay you back after the holidays."

Draco narrowed his eyes. "What do you need floo powder for? I thought your mother was a muggle?"

"She is- was," Blaise grimaced, as if he had revealed more than he meant to. "I'm afraid I'm in a bit of trouble, and I need to get to Hogsmede."

"Did something happen to your mother, boy?" Lucius asked, surprised to find himself concerned for his son's muggle-born roommate.

"Ah," Blaise paused, clearly considering how much to reveal about his situation, "I'm afraid so. I need to contact Professor Dumbledore about it."

"He won't help you," Lucius replied darkly, "He cares very little for the members of Slytherin house."

Blaise frowned, "There's a certain amount of bias there, yes, but he's improved this year. Besides, there's no one else I can speak to about this."

"What about Professor Snape?" Draco suggested, "He can help."

"Yes, I suppose he could. In either case, it's back to Hogwarts for me," Blaise smiled, though his smile rang false.

Lucius never would have believed it a year ago, but he felt a twinge of concern for the boy. It didn't take a Ravenclaw to deduce that he was in a great deal of trouble, and likely had been orphaned. Impulsively, Lucius declared, "You're coming back to the Manor with us."

"What?" Blaise squawked, wide-eyed; Draco seemed equally surprised.

"At this hour, it would be dangerous for you to walk from Hogsmede to Hogwarts alone, even if the weather were cooperating. If it is as severe up north, you could freeze before reaching the castle gates. From the Manor we can contact Professor Snape and you can floo to Hogwarts directly."

"I…"

"Do not argue. Despite what some may think, I'm not going to leave a boy to die in the streets alone."

"We're not going to hurt you," Draco snapped, apparently interpreting Blaise's reluctance as fear. "We're not Death Eaters."

"Of course not. Thank you," Blaise replied sincerely.

"Come along, then," Lucius prodded, gesturing for the boys to proceed to the floo station.

Even if Lucius had not already known Blaise was muggle-born, he would have easily deduced it from his inexperience with floo powder. Blaise spoke the instructions clearly enough, but when Lucius arrived in the Manor's fireplace, the boy was gripping the mantle looking quite green. Draco was smirking faintly, though he rubbed his roommate's back to quell the boy's motion sickness.

"Sorry," he gasped, "Not sure I'll ever get used to that. Just give me a minute and I'll be able to call Hogwarts and get out of your hair."

Draco's eyes widened and he raised a hand to his usually immaculate hair. "My hair?"

Blaise nearly laughed, "Muggle expression, sorry. I mean that I will be out of your way soon."

"Oh," Draco replied, looking somewhat perturbed. Lucius fought a smirk; as much as he did not like to see anyone upset his son, he did believe that Draco did worry a bit too much about his hair. He had always liked to play with hair as a baby and even a toddler; Narcissa had never appreciated that fact.

c~c~c~c~c

"You will look so pretty in this, little Draco, just like a diamond prince," Narcissa cooed, holding up a set of expensive, silver dress robes tailored to fit the small thirteen-month-old. Lucius watched from the doorway, immeasurably happy to see his wife taking an interest in their child at last.

But Draco was less than thrilled. "No!"

"What do you mean 'no'?" she sounded genuinely bewildered. "Don't you want to look pretty like Mummy?"

"Mummy!" Draco happily declared, tugging on one of the stylish blond tendrils that hung to the side of Narcissa's heavily made up face.

"Don't you touch that!" she screeched. "Bad boy! Very bad boy!"

"Narcissa!" Lucius had snapped. "Leave us! I'll dress him."

c~c~c~c~c

Lucius shook his head, wondering once again how he could ever had married that woman. Draco was really quite lucky that he had inherited little more than the hair obsession from her. Lucius was shaken out of his thoughts when he heard a long whistle. "Nice ballroom. You could hold a rock concert in here."

"Rocks give concerts?" Draco asked without thinking.

Blaise laughed. "No. Rock, short for rock and roll, is a kind of muggle music. What I play at dinner is often rock."

"Oh. That's a silly name."

"It is, a bit, now that I think about it. I think I've recovered now if, ah, you could show me…"

"You have never made a fire call before, have you, boy?"

"Ah. No," Blaise flushed faintly.

Lucius smiled, "Worry not. Kneel next to me and place your head in the fire when I tell you." Blaise nodded and kneeled, while Draco looked on with interest.

"Hogwarts!," Lucius declared, tossing another handful of powder into the fireplace. Dumbledore's ancient head quickly appeared in the flames.

"Ah, Lucius, what a nice surprise!"

Lucius frowned at him, "I must speak with Severus. One of his students has a situation that needs to be addressed."

"Draco?"

"No, not Draco. Blaise Valini."

"Ah, Blaise! Surely I can help, as Headmaster?"

Lucius scowled further, but before he could offer a scathing reply, he felt a light touch on his arm. "It's all right, Mr. Malfoy," Blaise said softly.

Growling slightly, Lucius capitulated. "Very well, but I will be observing." Dumbledore smiled.

"What is the matter, Blaise?"

Blaise shifted slightly, "I... uh... have a domestic situation that's rather... out of hand. I'm afraid I'm going to have to spend the Christmas holidays at Hogwarts, and after that… I'm not quite sure." Dumbledore actually look concerned.

"By all means, my boy, I'll open the floo so you may travel through. Shall I expect you as well, Lucius?" Lucius glanced at Draco then Valini. He felt something of an obligation to the boy now, but as always Draco had to come first.

"It's all right," Blaise said again, smiling shyly, "I can handle this, but thank you, Mr. Malfoy, and you too, Draco."

"I'll see you at school, Blaise," Draco responded uncertainly, sharing a glance with Lucius; Lucius realized his boy wasn't used to being sincerely thanked. Neither of them were, really.

"Very well," Lucius said, "Though you can expect my intervention should something go awry."

Dumbledore smiled and nodded. Blaise shared another shy smile, "Goodbye then. Happy Christmas!" And he was gone.

Lucius stood and turned to Draco. Neither spoke for a moment, then Lucius place a hand on Draco shoulder and said, "You're looking rather pale, son, you must be tired."

Draco rolled his eyes.

O~O~O~O~O

c~c~c~c~c

Six-year-old Lucius did not get a wink of sleep the day before his father's Yule party. But unlike other little boys at Christmas time, his sleeplessness was not due to joy or excitement; it was due to terror. Every year at the party, Abraxas would become intoxicated, and after all the guests had gone home, he would come to Lucius' room and... Lucius could feel himself trembling when a shadow fell across the bottom of the door, his father had decided to start the celebrating a day early this year...

c~c~c~c~c

Lucius awoke with a start. Nightmares like that one, while they no longer came every night, served to remind Lucius how ill he really was. If his son could not serve to cure him, no muggle toy, no matter how distracting, could truly do so either.

Lucius ordered the end to the cooling charm on the stuffed dragon and stretched out under the tousled covers. Lucius had always hated Yule as a child, but he had loved it ever since Draco was born. Draco loved getting gifts, and was always pleased with his father on Yule. Last year's separation had been difficult on both of them, but there would have been a lot of questions if Draco had not gone to the Yule ball; it was a Hogwarts tradition.

Draco had never said as much, but Lucius suspected that he had had a dreadful time. Pansy Parkinson could be a horrible nuisance, and Lucius found himself worrying that Crouch had 'celebrated' Yule the same way Abraxas had. Lucius vowed to make this year's Yule extra special.

"Wake up, precious," Lucius said softly, shaking Draco gently. The boy just mumbled and turned over. Lucius grinned; he did not really want to wake Draco but he had plans for the day. "It's Yule, son. Don't you want your presents?"

Draco sat bolt upright. "Presents?"

Lucius grinned. "Yes. I'll be waiting in the fifth floor sitting room in fifteen minutes." Lucius left, giving time for Draco to dress and tend to his hair.

Lucius walked to the sitting room quickly, wanting to make sure everything was perfect. He had chosen to put the 'present' tree in the fifth floor study because of the view the huge windows afforded of the snow-covered lands below. They had other trees of course, in the ballroom and small ones in all the 'public' rooms of the Manor in case Draco decided to invite any friends over. Narcissa would usually throw an extravagant Yule party, but she was gone and Lucius wanted to devote this entire day to just the two of them.

The mound of Draco's presents under the tree was considerable. Some may have said that the abundance of gifts was meaningless and materialistic, but Lucius had taken great care in selecting them; he knew Draco would appreciate it.

Draco ran into the room ten minutes after Lucius had left him, holding a small box wrapped in silver paper. "Merry Yule, Father," he grinned, pushing the box into Lucius' hands. "Aren't you going to open it?"

Lucius smiled, "After you're done with yours. I'll enjoy savoring the anticipation."

Draco looked at him like he had lost his mind. "You're sure?"

"Yes. Go on, these are all for you."

Draco hesitated only a moment more. He tore into the packages with as much exuberance as a five-year-old. "Father, thank you!... How did you know I wanted one of these!... Oh, look at what Millicent gave me!... A firebolt! Father, I love you!..." Lucius felt infinitely happy watching Draco having such a wonderful time. It was only after he had gone through the entire pile that Draco's enthusiasm waned a bit. "You didn't get any presents, Father."

Lucius grinned, "I have the only one that matters."

"Right! Open it now!"

"All right, all right..." Lucius took great care not to rip the paper; he was teasing Draco by taking so long and they both knew it. Finally, he placed the paper next to his chair and opened the box. He pulled out a stunningly beautiful pocket watch. "Thank you, my dragon."

"Open it," Draco urged.

Of course, Lucius complied. "Oh, precious..." imprinted on the inside of the watch's cover was a magical etching of the two of them. They were hugging each other and waving to him.

"I love you, son."

Draco climbed to his feet and hugged Lucius. "I love you too. Merry Yule, Father."

O~O~O~O~O

That evening, they enjoyed an extravagant feast in the dining room. Lucius was cheered by a feeling of wonderful decadence by looking down the long table filled with food knowing it was intended only for him and the one person he cared about in the world. And they had the most magnificent time. They talked about everything, spending hours just enjoying each other's company. For Lucius, it was as if the outside world did not exist. He and Draco had erected an invisible wall around themselves that even Abraxas could not penetrate.

But they both jumped when a Hogwarts owl swooped into the dining room, dropping a package and a card in front of Lucius' plate then flying away. Cautiously, Lucius lifted the card and read the envelope. How odd, it was from Blaise Valini. Lucius opened the green muggle envelope that was sealed with silver wax. The card was also muggle, bearing an unmoving picture of a holly wreath with red berries and silver and gold accents. Inside it bore a simple "Merry Christmas", but when Lucius opened it, a separate letter fell out. Handing the card to Draco, Lucius unfolded the parchment.

_Dear Draco and Mr. Malfoy,_

_Thank you again for taking care of me. I feel flattered to have been included in the select group of individuals who can say that literally owe their lives to the Malfoys. And your house really is impressive, but of course you knew that._

_I don't know how you celebrate the holidays; my guess is that it involves a lot of presents. So here's one from me to you. I hope you like it; it's hard to shop for people who not only have everything, but also all the places where it's sold. So Happy Christmas, Merry Yule, Happy New Year, Merry Solstice, and for good measure, Happy Hanukkah too. I trust I'll see you at the beginning of next term._

_~Blaise Valini~_

_Ps: I'm staying at Hogwarts in case you want to send a reply._

Lucius read the letter aloud to Draco. He smiled, "Let's open it!"

Lucius grinned indulgently and tore off the simple green paper. Inside the box were two smaller boxes, both covered in embroidered cloth decorated with glittering dragons and flowers. Lucius let Draco pick one (the green) and kept the other (black) for himself. They opened the boxes together, confused at what they found. Each box contained a pair of enameled balls.

Draco took one out curiously, examining it. "Do you suppose they're gobstones?"

"No, these are definitely muggle." And if Lucius' 'system' had taught him anything, it was that whenever you did not understand anything muggle, read the instructions. "According to this, these are 'health balls'. We are supposed to handle them like this," and he rolled the balls over each other in one hand.

"Oh, they ring!" Draco shook the ball he was holding vigorously, and a clear but low ringing sound emanated from it. "Cool. What are they supposed to do?"

"'Restore harmony and bring about a calmness of spirit," Lucius read off the directions.

"We could both probably use that," Draco replied, shaking the ball once more to produce the ringing.

Lucius' smile was bittersweet. "Yes, precious, we could."

* End Chapter 11 *


	12. Witch Weekly's Most Eligible Bachelor

Old Author's Note (Abridged): First, thanks for the reviews. As for this chapter, I want you all to know in advance that I like both Hermione and McGonagall very much. But McGonagall, like Dumbledore, has to own up to her mistakes eventually and having Lucius go on a rampage and kill her didn't seem that prudent; I hope you like the alternative. As for Hermione, she was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.

**Billywigs are described in Magical Beasts and Where to Find Them as insects whose bite causes the victim to temporarily levitate above the ground. Alas, as with all the characters in this fic (save for Flare, Lynda, and the odd extra or two), I cannot claim credit for their creation.

Disclaimer: They're not mine. You knew that.

My Angel is a Dragon, My Devil is a Snake

-Catspook

Chapter 12: Witch Weekly's Most Eligible Bachelor of the Year

"Goodbye, Draco. Owl me tonight so I know you got there safely..."

"And I'll owl you if I have any problems. I'll go to the nurse if I get ill. I'll use the panther if it gets cold. I know, I know."

Oh, Lucius knew he babied him too much... "I have to go now," Draco continued, hugging Lucius tightly. "Yule was wonderful; I love you. Owl me if you want to talk."

"I love you too, precious."

"Goodbye, father." And he hurried to get onto the Hogwarts' Express before it started moving.

"Good morning, Lucius. Did you have a good holiday?" a voice behind Lucius suddenly asked.

Lucius turned. "Lynda, good morning."

"So did you have a good holiday?"

Typical Lynda, she never dropped a question until she got an answer. "My holidays were very pleasant. Yours?"

"Hectic, just like every other time of the year. But I love it that way. Can I give you a lift somewhere?"

"Lift? Oh, you mean a ride in your vehicle. Yes, all right."

"It's a car."

"What?"

"My vehicle, it's called a car."

"I don't care."

Lynda gave him a look but did not comment.

"This is a different car," Lucius said reverently when he caught sight of Lynda's new machine.

"Of course. That was the Mercedes; the car I drive to work. This is my Ferrari; she's my baby," Lynda replied, waving her hand over the front lovingly.

It was stunning. This machine was no garish box on wheels; it was sleek and curved. Lucius normally detested red, but this... this was sexy, alluring. "Was it expensive?"

Lynda smirked at him, "What do you think?"

"Show me how to drive this machine."

O~O~O~O~O

Draco, having been in constant good spirits since Yule, was having a particularly good day. He had risen early to watch Millie (He had decided last December that 'Millicent' was too impersonal) at quidditch practice. She had been brilliant, especially now that he had permanently lent her his old nimbus (the only bad piece of news that Draco had received over the holiday was that Millie's parents had refused to buy her a broom; a decision which utterly baffled Draco). Her confidence had increased dramatically since Slytherin's win over Ravenclaw in November. The Gryffindor/Slytherin match was in two weeks, and Draco felt that they had an honest chance of beating them this year. And best of all, the Gryffindorks could not claim that the Slytherins had cheated themselves to victory this time; Flare had been keeping the team the most honest in the school.

After quidditch had been potions, which Draco was still on top of. Granger had been working furiously all term trying to catch up to him, but she never quite managed it (Draco suspected that Snape might have the tiniest bit to do with this, but if most of the other teachers didn't favor Granger, Draco would eat his new firebolt). Granger had made her potion perfectly today, but so had Draco and a couple of minutes faster too. Snape had given fifteen points to Slytherin.

Even care of magical creatures (Millie's favorite class) had been wonderful today; Hagrid had brought a swarm of billywigs. Weasley had gotten himself stung several times and had ended up quarantined in the hospital wing suffering from air sickness**. It was then with most jubilant spirits that Draco and Millie trotted off to lunch.

But Draco was most surprised at what he witnessed there. He had noticed a few girls watching him coyly this morning, but as Draco's good looks as well as his money and family name made this a not uncommon occurrence, he had thought nothing of it. But now the girls were acting positively bizarre. Most had joined together in large groups, giggling madly and passing an unknown object amongst themselves. And they all kept staring at him, an undeniably hungry look in their eyes.

Millicent cracked her knuckles menacingly, intent on protecting him, and the few brave souls who had looked as if they had been about to approach Draco shrank back the tiniest bit. Utterly confused, and the slightest bit frightened, Draco led Millicent to a clear area at the Slytherin table.

All through lunch, most of the girls, and Draco now noticed, some of the boys, kept giggling and making eyes at him. Even Millie's angry glare could not frighten off the bravest of them, and Draco was becoming very uncomfortable with the whole situation. His only consolation was that many other boys (especially Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs) were looking very put out by the whole affair. They looked... jealous.

Finally, Draco could take it no more. He climbed to his feet and approached a nearby group of second and third year girls, all of whom seemed to be obsessed with him. Raising himself to his full height (not all that tall, but still taller than them), Draco ordered in an imperious voice, "As a prefect, I demand that you explain to me what is going on."

Blushing, an irritating girl with hair not unlike Granger's shyly handed him a magazine. His brow knitted in confusion, Draco glanced at the cover. His father was staring up at him. Draco recognized the photograph as a cropped version of one including Lucius and Fudge at some big Ministry function. Draco quickly scanned the captions on the magazine cover, stunned by what he found.

_Witch Weekly: Annual Most Eligible Bachelors of Europe Issue. _

_Our #1 Pick: Lucius Malfoy, Rich, Sexy, and Newly Single._

Enraged, Draco snarled, "I'm confiscating this!" and marched out of the Great Hall.

Once he found a secluded area to read in, Draco threw himself down, opening the magazine so forcefully that he practically ripped it in half.

_Witch Weekly's Most Eligible Bachelor of the Year:_

_Lucius Malfoy_

_This year's Bachelor is a returning champion; Lucius Malfoy, 41, topped our list two years in a row at the tender ages of 17 and 18. Married to Narcissa Black at the age of 19, this wealthy and attractive wizard was off the market until last March, when he divorced his cheating wife. Still stunningly handsome, even after 22 years, we could not help but choose him again._

_As owner of the largest, private wizarding fortune in Britain, and already proven as a loving father to his 15-year-old son, Draco, Lucius is clearly quite the catch for any witch looking to settle down in the lap of luxury. _

_Lately, our winsome wizard has been avoiding the public eye. He has not been spotted at any major social functions since he resigned from the Ministry, only days before his divorce was finalized. Our elusive Romeo declined an interview with us, but we are certain that our pure-blooded Adonis has simply retreated to his 200 room manor to nurse his recently broken heart. The right witch, we feel, would be exactly the sort of thing to restore our suffering hero to his former glory, as one of Britain's most politically active private citizens. Incidentally, Draco, Lucius' pride and joy, resembles his father in every respect, and we certainly expect to see him near the top of our list when he comes of age._

How could they print this tripe? What kind of monsters were they? Didn't they understand what this would do to his father? He needed to rest and recuperate; how would he be able to handle the barrage of letters and attempted visits from the gold-digging whores who would undoubtedly be descending upon him like a swarm of locusts?

Incensed, Draco stormed to the Slytherin dorms, intent on writing his father a long letter. He didn't make it that far. On the way to the dungeons, he discovered a large crowd blocking on of the hallways, cheering on two students who were clearly having a fistfight.

"Stop! Stop it at once!" Draco ordered. They were wizards; they did not have flail at each other like common muggles! Eventually, Draco had to resort to magic to separate the combatants, eyes widening with shock when he recognized who they were.

"Millicent? What were you doing?"

"That ugly bitch attacked me!" Parvati Patil cried.

"Don't you talk to her like that!" Draco snapped. "Everyone clear out of here. NOW!" The students all scattered, except for Millicent, Parvati, and her friend, Lavender Brown.

"I'm getting a professor, Malfoy," Brown hissed, "Bulstrode attacked completely unprovoked."

"You lair!" Millicent yelled, "You know what she said!"

"It was only the truth, Bulstrode. Who do you think you're kidding?"

Millicent began to fight against the spell that held her in place. "You're wrong! You don't know anything!"

"What?" Draco demanded, "What did she say, Millicent?" But she refused to answer or even look at him. "What did you say, Patil?" Draco snarled. How dare she hurt his friend like that?

"None of your business, Malfoy! Now let me go or I'll have you kicked out as a prefect for abusing you position!"

"I'm perfectly within my rights to stop a fight. I'm not letting you go until I know that no one is going to go after each other again. Now what did you say?"

"I said that Bulstrode didn't have a chance with you, and that she should stop kidding herself. Happy now? Let me go!"

Draco glanced at Millicent; her face was red with shame. "You don't know shit, Patil," Draco snapped, ending the spell on both of the girls. Patil and Brown flounced off while Millie looked as if she were about to run for the dungeons.

"Millie, are you okay?" At the expression on her face, Draco continued, "No, of course you're not okay. But you shouldn't listen to that whore; she doesn't know what she's talking about."

"So I do have a chance with you?"

"A chance with me? What do you... oh," Draco finally realized what Patil had been saying, and he was surprised. He had never thought about anyone like that, let alone Millie.

But Millie seemed to misunderstand. "So I don't have a chance with you," she said suspiciously.

"That's not what I said."

"Well, do I or don't I?"

"I don't know," Draco answered honestly, "I've never... thought about you, or anyone really, like... that."

"What about Pansy?"

Draco shivered, "Yuck. I only went out with her that once and that only because I thought my father wanted me to."

"He didn't?"

Draco shrugged, "He said it was my choice, but only after I'd already agreed to go with her. But she's gone now anyway, so it's irrelevant."

"Oh," Millie seemed quite downcast. Draco didn't know what to say.

"Well, um... if I, you know, *was* going to... think about someone that way, I know it would be you."

Millie looked at him in an almost coy manner, "Really?"

Draco shrugged, "Who else would it be? I don't like any of the other girls that go here; I don't even know most of them anymore."

Millie frowned at him but did not comment. "Come on, it's almost time for class." Draco decided the letter to his father would have to wait until his free period at 3:00.

O~O~O~O~O

"Master Lucius, sir! You is getting all kinds of strange mail, sir!" Dibby declared that morning while Lucius was eating a late breakfast and flipping though a muggle luxury car magazine.

"What kind of mail? Is it from Hogwarts?" Lucius' chest constricted, and he was terrified that something horrible had happened to Draco.

But Dibby shook her head so hard that her ears were slapping her in the face, "No, no, Master Lucius, sir! This is being mail that Dibby has never seen any likes of, sir! It is from many strange ladies, sir!"

Lucius brow wrinkled in confusion, "Ladies?" And suddenly there was a gong-like ring throughout the manor. Someone was trying to enter! Lucius grabbed his cane, unsheathing his wand as he strode to the front doors; the tone of the gong had told him that the intruder was attempting to enter through the front gates.

When he reached the doors, Lucius muttered a password that allowed him to see who was standing at the gates. He was shocked to find that the trespasser was a young witch, beautiful and clearly wealthy, but so completely overdone that Lucius felt the need to pull her aside and inform her that she looked like a prostitute. "Get rid of her," Lucius ordered Dibby, turning towards the owlery. The letters and the woman could not be unrelated, and Lucius needed to know what was going on.

Dibby had been right; there were all kinds of mail piling up on the floor of the owlery: envelopes of all shapes and sizes, as well as a smaller, yet not insubstantial, number of packages. As Lucius watched, many strange owls kept flooding in, delivering even more parcels and letters. Certain that none of the mail was dangerous (there were wards on the Malfoy land that prevented owls belonging to people who wished harm against the Malfoys from finding the manor), Lucius picked a letter at random and opened it.

The cloying smell of perfume nearly made Lucius retch. Banishing the sickening musk with a wave of his wand, Lucius attempted to read the letter, but the writing was so loopy and frilly that he could hardly make out the words. When he finally did manage to make it out, he could barely believe that someone would send him a letter so ridiculous.

_Dear Lucius,_

_My name is Belinda Lovewright, and I have admired you from afar for years. I worked in the same department as you at the Ministry of Magic for most of that time, but only now, when I heard how much you are suffering over your break-up with your wife, did I finally find the courage to contact you. I want you to know that I would never betray you like that; if you were mine I would be true to you for the rest of my life. I know that I am no great beauty compared to many of the witches that are available to you, but I am kind and I know that I could treat you better than anyone else._

At this, Lucius snorted in disgust; no one could possibly treat him as well as his precious son did. However, out of nothing so much as morbid curiosity, Lucius continued reading.

_And I would love to meet your son. I'm sure you are a wonderful father. Though I am still quite young, I know I'd be ready for children of our own immediately. I hope that you have read this letter carefully and will agree to meet with me. I know that I am the sort of witch who could make you happier than you have ever been._

_Fondly Waiting,_

_Belinda_

What, by Merlin, was this? Lucius ripped into more letters. Skimming the content of half a dozen others, Lucius was able to discern that, while some were far more bizarre than others, all of the letters contained basically the same sort of message. What was going on? Finally, Lucius found a letter that made a reference to a Witch Weekly article.

How dare they! Shaking with rage, Lucius yelled for Dibby. "Bring me a copy of today's Witch Weekly!" he roared, incensed at this invasion of his privacy.

While he waited for Dibby's return, Lucius relieved some of his anger by casting an incendio spell on the pile of mail. It burned merrily, and the vast amounts of perfume that infested the infernal letters kept causing the flames to burst into brilliant flashes of color, first pink then blue... green... purple...

"Master Lucius, sir?" Dibby ventured cautiously, holding up a copy of the offending magazine.

Lucius ripped the magazine out of her hand, tearing into it and reading the 'article' about him feverishly. When he was finished, Lucius cast the incendio on the magazine as well. "Dibby, I want any more mail sent from these 'strange ladies' to be destroyed."

"Yeses, Master Lucius, sir!" she agreed, nodding her head compulsively.

Still enraged, Lucius marched to his study, throwing himself into the chair behind his desk. Why did his life have to be so difficult? Of course, if he were honest with himself, this was really nothing compared to the other problems he had had recently, but that did not mean that he would tolerate it.

Suddenly, Lucius got a deliciously wicked idea. Perhaps this situation was not so much a hindrance as an opportunity. A plan began forming in his head, and a frighteningly sly grin formed on his face.

O~O~O~O~O

"Well, whatever career you choose, Miss Granger, I am certain that you will excel in it. I have no doubts that you will do very well on you OWLs."

Glowing with the praise from her favorite teacher, Hermione practically bounced off her chair. "Thank you, professor McGonagall. You have been very helpful to me. I know our next essay isn't due until Friday, but would you like me to hand it in now? I finished it last night."

"That will be fine, Miss Granger," the Professor replied, taking to proffered rolls of parchment. "I will see you in class tomorrow."

"Goodbye, Professor," Hermione grinned, quietly leaving the tidy office. So elated was she, her bushy head filled with dreams about what lay beyond Hogwarts, that she nearly ran into Lucius Malfoy. He glared at her coldly as she walked past, but the chilling effect was lessened somewhat by the large box of chocolates and colorful bouquet he was carrying.

Shocked, she turned to see where he was heading with his bizarre burden. Amazingly, he was headed straight for Professor McGonagall's office. Burning with both curiosity and not a little bit of fear about what the Slytherin might be intending to do to her beloved Head of House, Hermione covertly followed him.

He knocked firmly on the office door, then entered upon McGonagall's permission to do so. The conversation that followed was so unbelievable that Hermione kept pinching herself, wondering of she was dreaming.

"Mr. Malfoy? What are you doing here?"

"I'm afraid that I cannot accept these gifts, Professor-"

"What-"

"As my son's professor, it was quite inappropriate of you to pursue me-"

"For good-"

"And though I can hardly say that our dealings in that past have given me an entirely positive image of you, I was still quite shocked that you would act upon something as trivial and juvenile as an article in Witch Weekly-"

"Mr.-"

"No need to explain, Minerva; I don't want to hear it. You are my son's teacher, and we can never become what you seem to want us to be. And aside from that, I rather feel you are too old for me."

"What-"

"Goodbye, Minerva; please refrain from attempting to contact me in the future." And with that, he immediately emerged from the office, striding down the hall without looking back.

Hermione had never been more at a loss for words. She stood shell-shocked in the hallway for a minute or two, then did the only logical thing for her to do in this situation; she ran and told Harry and Ron what she had overheard. Unfortunately, she did not realize that the twins were eavesdropping on them at the time.

Minerva watched Lucius Malfoy depart thoroughly convinced that either he or she had cone completely mad. She could not believe that he would actually think that she was interested in him, and the suggestion that this interest was due to that ridiculous article in Witch Weekly was absolutely absurd!

Once she recovered enough from her shock, Minerva rifled through the flowers, searching for the card. Perhaps someone had sent them as a joke, a very unfunny joke. But the words on the card only puzzled her.

"Now you'll see what it is not to be believed."

What did that mean? Could he possibly be referring to the incident in his second year? Albus had asked her about it after Ron Weasley had attempted to turn Draco into a ferret, and while Minerva had been known to lie awake at night, considering what the consequences of her past actions had actually been, she did not see what the flowers and candy had to do with it. It wasn't as if he had made those ridiculous accusations in front of the whole school.

O~O~O~O~O

Draco was immensely and wickedly pleased by McGonagall's discomfort that night. His father had unexpectedly entered the library that afternoon when Draco had been researching his herbology essay, and, after the usual greetings and enquiries about Draco's well-being, had told him about his prank on McGonagall. Draco was also delighted to hear how Lucius had managed to manipulate Granger.

The entire school was now buzzing about McGonagall's alleged affair with Draco's father. The witch in question was alternating between glaring at particularly gossipy groups and scowling resolutely at her nearly untouched dinner. Draco had heard that she had taken away more points and given more detentions today than she had in all the other days since Christmas.

Draco, of course, helped fuel the rumors by giving anyone who asked the story his father had concocted ("Can you imagine? Her thinking she had a chance with my father?"). Draco had told only Millicent the truth, but as McGonagall routinely acted as if Millicent were not in her class at all, despite the fact that the Slytherin girl had been in dire need of tutoring before Draco had started helping her; she was more than willing to back up his story. Draco decided that maybe that ridiculous article hadn't been so bad after all.

O~O~O~O~O

_...The letter had terrified me. Of course, I always dreaded returning home, but I felt that Abraxas had prepared a special punishment for me and was eagerly anticipating administering it. It actually wasn't punishment, not really, as I hadn't done anything wrong;_ _Abraxas__ just preferred to call it that. I hated him. I hated McGonagall too, so being forced to attend transfiguration after reading that infernal parchment was particularly difficult for me. The last thing I was expecting that day was to find the classroom 'redecorated'._

_It seems that Potter, Black, and their little group of cronies had decided that it would be a great April Fool's prank to 'transfigure' the transfiguration room. They made it into a swamp, complete with toadstool stools and stumps and rock for desks. The lizards we were meant to turn into parchment had broken out of their cage in the excitement and McGonagall had been chasing them all over the swamp. She was covered in mud, flushed with fury. I can honestly say that that was the only time Potter had ever done me a favor. Seeing McGonagall like that, it took the edge off my fear for a bit. Any peace of mind was to be savored in those days..._

Lucius smiled. It was the first time he had even enjoyed writing in his journal. He had finally managed to move on from the most horrible memories onto others that were not quite as terrifying. Lucius felt like he was pouring his whole self onto those pages; he was profoundly grateful to Draco for making him do this. It had helped, as hard as it had been for him to believe that when he had started.

Getting McGonagall today had also been extremely satisfying, not matter how trivial his little prank was compared to what she had done to him. It had reminded him of the swamp incident; he hadn't thought about that in years. Lucius usually thought of his Hogwarts years as a bleak and lonely time, but he was finding that lately he was beginning to remember some good times too. Still smiling, Lucius finished the journal entry with a flourish. When he was done, he turned back to the car magazine he had dropped that morning; maybe he would get a Viper...

* End Chapter 12 *


	13. Victory and Vipers

Old Author's Note (Abridged): This is the second to last chapter. Some odd stuff happens and Lucius starts acting kind of weird; if you don't like it, too bad. I'm, quite frankly, sick of angst, and I love happy endings (even if they are mildly insane). As for the Dodge Viper, I did some research about it online, and all the info I include here is, to the best of my knowledge, accurate. I could not, despite my efforts, find out if Vipers are ever made with the driver's seat on the right (in compliance with the way cars are in Britain), so I'm assuming that some are. If not, too bad; I tried. I like the symbolism of a Viper, and it is good for what Lucius intends to use it for. That is all, and thanks for reading my fic!

Disclaimer: They're not mine. You knew that.

My Angel is a Dragon, My Devil is a Snake

-Catspook

Chapter 13: Victory and Vipers

_MUGGLE TO LEAD LAWSUIT AGAINST AZKABAN!_

_-Rita Skeeter_

_In an unprecedented show of courage and righteousness, Constance Lynda Hill, the muggle who wowed the wizarding world by taking on over a dozen, fully-armed Death Eaters at the battle of King's Cross, has taken up the case of Sirius Black, wrongly imprisoned in Azkaban for twelve years without a trial. "I was utterly appalled when I heard about how this innocent man had been treated," the poised and attractive lawyer replied when asked why she decided to take on the entire Ministry of Magic. Furthermore, when questioned about concerns that a muggle might not be able to comprehend the complexities of wizarding law, Hill reassured this top reporter that, "I really don't see it as a problem. I've already sorted through the case law, and there were many clear violations here. A government is a government, and I can't believe that your Ministry would be any more eager than our Parliament to be on record as having abused one of its own citizens. I trust that justice will be served._

_In addition to the 500,000 galleons in compensation to Mr. Black, Hill is asking that 10,000 galleons be awarded to Harry Potter who, she says, was subjected to mental anguish by being deprived of his godfather for those twelve years. Of course, dear readers, you remember that Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, was tragically orphaned as a baby and left in the care of his muggle relatives; care that many have come to suspect was highly questionable. Personally, this reporter feels that 10,000 galleons could never possibly make up for what our ineffectual and massively corrupt Ministry has put our child-savior through, but it is the very least they could do._

_Finally, Hill is also demanding that the dementors be discontinued as the guards of Azkaban. "Your Ministry knows that that place drives people insane, and what good does that do anybody? Those that are guilty are sure never to be rehabilitated; they are simply leeches feeding off government money. And as for those who are innocent, like Mr. Black, the violation of their human rights is absolutely inexcusable. People need to stop thinking that everyone is Azkaban is merely being served justice; that is simply not true."_

_When asked about concerns that the removal of the dementors will make it easier for real criminals, like Death Eater and murderess Bellatrix Lestrange, to escape and commit more crimes, Hill had this to say, "I've been to that place; it's in the middle of nowhere. If they instituted real security measures, guards, spells, what have you, they could make escape an impossibility. Besides, Mr. Black himself proved that escape is not impossible even with the Dementors."_

_But whether she prevails in the courtroom or not, this crack investigator is sure that Mrs. Hill will leave her mark on the Ministry of Magic. Shortly after her original claim was filed, half a dozen other lawsuits were also filed on behalf of other current and former prisoners. Clearly, many a stuffy, self-serving bureaucrat is in for rough time; perhaps the Ministry may even begin to address many of the problems concerning everyday wizards that have been ignored for so long. As usual, the Daily Prophet will bring you all the facts as they unfold, so be sure to check in every day to join Mrs. Hill and Mr. Black in their valiant struggle for justice."_

Lucius shook his head in wonder; Lynda would never cease to surprise him. He admired her courage, and he greatly envied her seemingly limitless energy. It had been so long since Lucius had been able to go about his life without fatigue and fear constantly tearing at him. Sighing, Lucius folded up his morning paper and slowly stood.

He might as well write in his journal some more; he really had nothing better to do. Besides, Lucius had lately been toying with the idea of turning his writings into a fiction novel and publishing it under a pseudonym. He wanted wizards to wake up and realize that their little civilization was not as perfect as they pretended it to be, but he was not so brave as to admit that the he himself had actually experienced all the horrors that he had described in his journal.

On the way to his office, Lucius heard a suspicious banging noise coming from an ornate cabinet in the hallway. Perplexed and angry with who or what had invaded his home (he suspected it might be another over-eager Witch Weekly reader that had somehow figured out how to enter the manor), Lucius drew his wand and magically opened the door. Lucius froze in terror, his wand dropping from limp fingers.

"You disgusting, little whore!" Abraxas snarled, looking as enraged and dangerous as Lucius had ever seen him, "How dare you raise a wand to me! I am going to teach you proper respect if it kills you, you useless, stupid piece of filth! No one could ever love you! You are deluding yourself..."

And suddenly Lucius was not crippled with fear anymore; he was angry, more angry than he had ever been. How dare he? How dare that man presume to know what Lucius' precious son could and could not do? Lucius did not think; he couldn't think through the hate clouding his mind. He didn't even feel it as his body changed. He did not realize that his mouth now contained razor-sharp weapons, even as he leapt at the object of his hatred. And then all he could see was red.

Lucius tore Abraxas to shreds; he didn't even notice when the body he was mangling shifted from that of a tall, powerfully built man into a short mass of black fur and scales. Only when the exhaustion one again began creeping up on him did Lucius realize that his attacker had not been Abraxas at all.

Morphing back to his human form, Lucius retrieved his wand and put the barely breathing but still alive boggart out of its misery. "Riddikulus!"

"DIBBY!" Lucius bellowed at the top of his lungs.

She immediately popped into the hallway, bowing tremulously. "M-master Lucius, sir?"

"HOW DARE YOU! HOW DARE YOU ALLOW A BOGGART TO ENTER THE MANOR! IT ATTACKED ME! I HAD TO KILL IT! IT BECAME ABRAXAS... and I killed it..." suddenly, Lucius, oblivious to Dibby's wails for forgiveness, began to laugh, "I killed it! It became Abraxas and I killed him! I killed him!" Lucius felt lighter than air, like his veins were full of sparkling wine. He was free! Abraxas was dead; he was free! Lucius picked up a terrified Dibby and began swinging her around, "I'm free! I'm free, Dibby!"

Lucius finally set her down after he realized that he was still covered in the boggart's blood. "Clean up this mess!" he declared, "I'm going to take a bath and change, and then... I'm going to buy a car!" he decided, a huge grin on his face. He very nearly ran up the stairs to his bedroom. In his euphoria, he did not hear Dibby sobbing.

"Master Lucius sir is loosing his mind, Sir!"

O~O~O~O~O

Draco was of a similar opinion when he received a letter from his father about the boggart incident and his new 'car'. His father was not acting like himself at all! Draco wrote him back and told him so. In response, Lucius sent another latter and a parcel of chocolate frogs with the cards removed.

_My Dear Draco,_

_I cannot explain this change that has come over me. I can do things now that I have not been able to do since you left for school. I love you, and I still miss you dearly, but I am finding it possible to find things to occupy my time now._

_I'm no fool. I know that __Abraxas__ will always be with me in one way or another, but I know now that I am stronger than he. And I can be a better father to you now. It is just you and me now; I don't have to worry about him and you no longer have to worry about me worrying about him._

_As for the car, it's really quite a diverting device. I've been taking long drives in the afternoons for no reason at all; it gives me time to think. Maybe you should try it? Honestly, Draco, did you think me so weak of character that I would let a muggle machine turn me into 'another Arthur Weasley' as you put it. That man tinkers with things he knows nothing of; I understand this machine far better than he, I'm sure. Besides, there is no way that he could purchase my model of car with the pittance he makes taking care of renegade toilets. Wealth means power and prestige, to wizards and muggles alike. We are better than peasants like the Weasleys no matter what we do; remember that._

_But I do appreciate your concern for my well-being, no matter how that concern is phrased. I worry about you as well; you are eating enough, aren't you? I know that OWLs are coming up very soon, but don't forget to take care of yourself. If you try your best, I know you will have no need to worry. And remember: get a good night's sleep before the tests. Whatever last minute studying you might be convinced you need - and you don't - will be useless if your mind is not well rested. I remember a girl in my year who slept straight through the history exam because she had been up all night cramming for transfiguration. Don't worry about finding time to write me if you are too busy, __but take care of yourself__, I mean it. Thus ends my fatherly pronouncements; I trust you are well and will continue to be so. Enjoy the frogs._

_love,_

_Father_

Baffled, but trusting that his father likely knew what he was doing, Draco placed the letter in his trunk and returned to his Arithmancy notes. Millie was at quidditch practice, and as Arithmancy was the only class he did not share with her, Draco found it the best time to study for his upcoming OWL in the subject.

But Draco was once again diverted from his studying when Blaise entered their dorm. "Good evening, Draco. How's the studying?"

The two boys had developed an understanding and a tenuous sort of friendship since Christmas. They spent little time together, as Draco refused to go anywhere near the Gryffindors and Blaise was still passionately involved with Potter, but when they were together, they appeared to get along fine. Still stewing about his father's letter, Draco decided that the tanned and, regrettably, muggle-born boy would be the perfect person to ask about the 'car'. "Tell me, Blaise, What sort of car is a Viper?"

"Uh..." Blaise looked at Draco oddly but proceeded to answer his question, "It's an American made sports car, higher performance, flashy, expensive... Why do you want to know?"

"My father bought one."

Blaise gaped at him. "You're kidding!"

"No," Draco snapped.

Blaise grinned, "I'm sorry, that's just like finding out that a fundamentalist minister collects gay porn. At least he's got taste."

"Of course he has taste," Draco replied haughtily, "He's my father."

"Of course. I just dropped in to pick up my potions notebook." Blaise rummaged through his trunk while Draco tried to imagine his father driving around in one of those tiny machines that the muggles in London were always putting around in; the image just didn't fit.

"Hey, Draco," Blaise said once he had found his notes.

"Yes?"

"Do y'think your dad might give me a ride in his car?"

Draco threw a pillow at him.

O~O~O~O~O

"Draco, might I have a word with you after class?" Professor Snape asked quietly during their next potions lesson.

"Of course," Draco answered, wondering what he might have done wrong.

As everyone filtered out after class, Draco slowly packed up his things; he still couldn't understand why Snape would want to see him. "You're not in trouble," Snape assured him, as if he could read Draco's mind. "You've just seemed rather quiet and out of sorts the past few days; is something wrong?"

"Oh..." Draco replied, relieved that he was not in trouble, "No, everything's fine..."

Snape looked at him shrewdly, "Are you sure?"

"Well... my father bought a car," Draco nearly whispered, as if he were saying an exceptionally dirty word.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "And that's all?"

"All?" Draco asked, incredulous, "Arthur Weasley had a car!"

Snape smirked, "Yes, but Arthur Weasley also has an owl; I'm sure that you would not fault your father for having one as well."

Draco gaped at him, "How can you compare that scraggly, poorly-bred creature with the Malfoy owls?"

"Well, just as with owls, cars vary in their quality."

"But cars are muggle things!"

"So is indoor plumbing; I'm sure you don't fault your father for using that."

"Muggles invented pluming?" Draco asked curiously.

"Yes. So you see, not all muggle things are useless. Furthermore, it does not always speak ill of a wizard's character to use muggle things."

Draco narrowed his eye suspiciously, "Did Dumbledore tell you that?"

Snape frowned, "Contrary to popular opinion, Dumbledore does not tell me what to think; I am intelligent enough to figure out some things on my own."

Draco hung his head sheepishly, "Sorry, Professor."

"Don't apologize. I can't fault you for being suspicious of Dumbledore's influence over me; I know that he does not have a good history of being fair to you and Slytherin house in general, but I do hope you at least entertain the possibility that he may be attempting to improve things. If nothing else, it will help you get along with your roommate."

Draco folded his arms huffily, "I still don't know why Blaise thinks Dumbledore is so all-fired great."

Snape arched an eyebrow. "Didn't he tell you? Dumbledore had been declared his legal guardian and is now in the process of adopting him."

"What? Why?"

"I don't know. Perhaps you should ask Blaise that. To be honest, I think the Headmaster might have certain regrets regarding Slytherin house, and is attempting to remedy them."

"Hmm..." well that certainly gave Draco a lot to think about. "Thank you, Professor. I should probably get going now."

"You're quite welcome. And be sure to get enough sleep; Lucius will have my head if you collapse in the middle of class."

Draco smirked as he slung his bag over his shoulder, "Your concern for me is touching."

"That is exactly how it was intended, Draco," Snape smirked back.

O~O~O~O~O

But as OWLs were quickly approaching, Draco had little time to consider the mystery that was Blaise Valini. Additionally, Valini was spending even more time with the Dream Team than usual; even Draco had to admit that Hermione Granger was a useful friend to have come exam time. Draco soon discovered that his time was better spent helping Millie get all her work done and still maintain a full quidditch practice schedule; the Quidditch cup was in three weeks and, as expected, it was Slytherin versus Gryffindor.

Lucius was, of course, supportive. When Draco had written him, telling him about how down Millie was about her chances at a transfiguration OWL, Lucius had sent her a large box full of all her favorite sweets as well as a list of helpful study suggestions. She had been so touched that she cried.

Finally, the day of the quidditch cup arrived, and everyone welcomed the break in their monotonous and exhausting study routines. Millie was so nervous that morning that she didn't eat a thing or say two words to Draco. A few months ago, that would probably have offended Draco, but now he knew her well enough not to take it personally.

"You're going to be great, you know," he told her earnestly in the Great Hall. "We've got a great team this year."

"Absolutely right," Flare agreed, getting up from her seat. "No need to be nervous; we're going to play a great game. But we had better get a move on so we can do some warm-up laps around the pitch before the game starts. Come on, team." And they fallowed her out.

"I'll be rooting for you!" Draco called after Millicent. She waved back limply.

The stands were totally packed. Draco left lunch early so that he could get a seat in the front row, and even then had had to scare a couple of tiny first years out of his seat. He could see Valini and his ever-growing gang of inter-house friends in their own box, some rooting for Gryffindor, some for Slytherin, and some, like Blaise, rooting for both houses.

The game began. It was the cleanest Gryffindor/Slytherin match Draco had ever witnessed. By now, the other houses had come to trust that the Slytherin team was going to follow the rules and therefore were willing to obey them themselves.

But that didn't mean that the game wasn't exiting; it was. Heading into the game, Slytherin was leading Gryffindor by a mere 30 points. Both teams were extremely talented, and Potter was not the only one on a world-class broom. But after an hour or so, it became clear that the Slytherin keeper and beaters were noticeably better than Gryffindor's; Slytherin was leading ninety to forty.

After another hour, Slytherin was still leading, at 180 to 50. But this seemed to make the Gryffindors only more determined; in the next hour, Gryffindor scored twice while keeping Slytherin at bay. The score was now 180 to 70, and if Potter caught the snitch, Gryffindor would win the cup. But Lillith Xavier (who, last September, had upset Potter's old record of being the youngest Hogwarts seeker in a century) was the first to spot the snitch. She dove madly, but Potter was hot on her tail. The entire stadium was in an uproar, everyone was on their feet, cheering for their favorite. Potter was closing in... they were neck and neck... the snitch was just in front of them... and a split second before Potter caught it, a gong sounded.

Slytherin had scored.

Potter, however, hadn't seemed to realize this, for he was holding up the snitch and waving, flushed with victory. "Gryffindor wins 220 to 190!" Lee Jordan announced, and Potter realized his mistake. "Gryffindor and Slytherin tie for the cup!" Draco's jaw dropped. A tie? That was so... unfulfilling. And from the expression on his face, Potter seemed to agree.

But then Draco became aware of the people in the stands again, and they were all... cheering! Draco looked around; almost everybody in the stands was still on their feet, cheering loudly. Blaise and his group were jumping up and down, waving their arms, and chanting, "GO, GO, GRYFFINDOR! SLY-THER-IN! GO, GO, GRYFFINDOR! SLY-THER-IN!" And as Draco watched, even the people that had initially looked disappointed started clapping as well, nodding in appreciation; it had been a thrilling and incredibly skillful game.

Finally, Draco found it in him to clap too, but he insisted on yelling, "Yeah, Millie! Good show!" And after the crowd thinned out a bit, Draco made his way down to the locker rooms to wait for Millie and congratulate her.

As he walked past Blaise, he saw the tanned boy sweep Potter up in his arms, shouting, "Yeah! Double victory party!"

Well, that explained why Blaise had been so happy, at least.

O~O~O~O~O

Lucius ginned as he read Draco's ten page letter detailing the ins and outs of the quidditch final. Lucius grinned a lot these days, but there was still nothing that made him happier than hearing from his boy. And he was happy for Millicent too; from what Draco had told him, the poor girl truly deserved her chance at glory.

Lucius wrote a long response to Draco's letter and sent it off, along with a large package of sweets and a photograph of Lucius' car; he believed that if only Draco could see how different it was from Arthur Weasley's rouge Anglia he could come to accept it. Lucius then did the same thing he had been doing almost every day; driving his shiny, black Viper at break-neck speeds all over the countryside surrounding the manor.

O~O~O~O~O

"Oooh, your dad got a Viper!" Sally-Anne Perks squealed, tearing the photograph out of Draco's hand.

"Hey! Give that back!"

"But this is so cool! I love sports cars; pretty soon all the wizards will be driving them!" but seeing the continuing frown on Draco's face, Sally-Anne handed the photo back, "Here you go! I have to go meet Lavender and Susan in the library, bye!"

Draco shook his head in disgust that someone like that had ever become the queen on the Slytherin girls; if she wasn't spreading gossip all over the school, she was conspicuously bringing attention to her over-large breasts. Draco usually tried to ignore her, but one thing she had said had caught his attention; would Draco's father truly make muggle cars fashionable? Draco didn't know exactly how to feel about that. On one hand, it showed how much the wizarding world looked up to his father, but on the other hand, it seemed to go against all he had been taught about the superiority of wizarding culture.

"What was Sally-Anne so happy about?" Millie asked, entering the dungeon with a pile of books in her arms.

"She found out my father bought a car; she thought that was a good thing," Draco grumbled.

"Well... isn't it? I mean, isn't he having great fun with it?"

"But it's a *muggle* thing."

Millie sighed, "I know. You've only said that ten times a day since he told you about it. I'm sick of hearing you say that."

"But... but, it's *muggles*."

"Look, Draco, I know that you don't like muggles, and they've done some horrible things to wizards, but you don't mind that I'm part ogre, and ogres have done terrible things too."

"What are you getting at?" Draco asked suspiciously.

"Well... you don't seem to thinks that everything connected with ogres is bad. Maybe not everything connected with muggles is bad; I mean, your dad really loves that car."

Draco fumed. He did *not* like being contradicted, and he liked it even less when he didn't have a good comeback. "But Granger's still a bushy-haired, little know-it-all."

"Well, yeah. What does that have to do with your father's car?"

"Nothing," Draco pouted. He didn't say anything else for a long time.

* End Chapter 13 *


	14. Fun

Old Author's Note (Abridged): This is it: the end. I tell you, it has been on hell of a ride. This story has undergone a complete metamorphosis from what it originally was; thanks for sticking with it anyways. I hope you are not offended by Mr. Weasley's role in this last chapter. I know that it is vulgar and juvenile, but I have had this idea since I started 'Precious' and I could not resist. I want to thank my reviewers, who were helpful, supportive, and wonderful.

Disclaimer: They're not mine. You knew that.

My Angel is a Dragon, My Devil is a Snake

-Catspook

Chapter 14: Fun

During the time between the quidditch final and the OWLs, Draco was so busy with both studying and his prefect duties that he forgot to be bothered by his father's car. The time passed so quickly that the OWLs had come and gone before Draco could have believed it. He supposed that one of the advantages of exhausting himself so completely studying for them was that he could not later clearly remember how awful they were. And after the last test, all the fifth and seventh years (who had just completed their NEWTs) were completely ecstatic. Most fled outside into the warm sunshine that they had not been able to enjoy all year, and when night fell, they all filtered into the Great Hall for the party Blaise had convinced Dumbledore to let him throw.

Everyone was dressed as muggles, and Blaise was playing his recorb, often accompanying on an old piano that he had dug up from somewhere. Blaise, Sally-Anne, and Justin Finch-Flechly were teaching everyone how to dance like muggles and sent McGonagall into fits with some of their more risqué moves (it was bad enough, she said, that boys and girls went about showing their legs off to each other). Despite himself, Draco was having a good time sipping on a butterbeer and watching everyone make fools of themselves. Millie seemed to enjoy herself too, though it was hard to tell as she kept nodding off. Finally, Draco decided to walk her back down to the dungeons then go to bed himself.

"G'night, Draco," Millie murmured, "Thanks for walking me down."

"Good night, Millie. I'm sure you were brilliant on that last test."

"You think so? If I did, it was only because you helped me so much; I don't know what I would have done without you."

Draco blushed, "It was no problem, really. Um..." Draco had the sudden urge to do something very silly; he wanted to kiss Millie good night. He had never done that before, as the only other girl he had ever 'gone' anywhere with was Pansy, and he would have sooner kissed a blast-ended skrewt than her. But he was a Malfoy, and Malfoys always got what they wanted. Before Millie could say anything, Draco rolled onto the balls of his feet (Millie was a good three inches taller than him) and kissed her. "Good night, Millicent," Draco smiled shyly when he was finished.

"'Night," she replied, looking dazed.

Draco hummed too himself all the way up the stairs to his dorm.

O~O~O~O~O

Draco shared a sly grin with Millicent as they entered the Great Hall for the leaving feast. For the first time in four years, it was decorated in green and silver, announcing to everyone in the castle, had they not known already, that Slytherin had won the house cup. As usual, the two biggest contenders had been Slytherin and Gryffindor, and Weasley's ill-fated attempt to turn Draco into a ferret had knocked Gryffindor out of the running. And this year even Dumbledore could not find a way to steal the cup from them as he had done in Draco's first year.

And surprisingly, he didn't even seem to want to try. His speech congratulating Slytherin seemed sincere, and he even went so far as to say, "This year Slytherin house has demonstrated a degree of maturity that outshines any I have seen in any house during my entire career as headmaster. In all arenas, academic, athletic, and extracurricular, they have acted in the most fair and sportsman- or woman- like manner, even in the face of adversity and provocation. Three cheers for Slytherin!" And amazingly, there were.

Draco and Millie shared a grin; it seemed like everything was going their way after all.

O~O~O~O~O

Lucius could not stop smiling as he pulled his Viper into a parking space at King's Cross.

He grinned even wider as he heard a familiar voice declare, "Gorgeous car, Lucius."

"You were my inspiration, Lynda," he replied.

"But I see you have a things for snakes; I prefer horses, myself."

"Horses?" Lucius questioned, as he took Lynda's arm in his own (a well-bred wizard always offered a lady his arm, even if he was dressed in muggle clothes).

"The symbol of the Ferrari is a stallion. I like your new clothes. Armani?"

"Of course," Lucius replied smugly.

"No one could ever accuse you of having poor taste, Lucius."

"Of course not; I am a Malfoy."

Lynda laughed, "Of course."

He walked her through the barrier, and they once again claimed the bench as their own. They had not been there long, however, when Arthur Weasley decided to butt in. "Malfoy," Weasley nodded coldly. "Mrs. Hill?" he inquired, holding a black, leather bag in one hand.

"Yes?" Lynda asked suspiciously.

"Hello, my name is Arthur Weasley."

"I know who you are; my daughter told me all about the trouble your son gave the Malfoy boy this year."

"Well, yes," Weasley flushed, embarrassed. "Ron does have a tendency to act before he thinks."

"Well?" Lynda demanded archly, "Did you want something?"

"Well, as a matter of fact, I was wondering if you could give me some help," he replied, fumbling with the clasp on his bag.

"What kind of help?"

"Well, I don't know if your daughter told you, but I work in the Office of Muggle Protection..."

"I rather resent the implication that we need protection," Lynda said coldly, "But what is it you need?"

"Well, you see, I confiscated an illegally charmed object last week that I am sure is muggle made, but neither my partner no I can figure out exactly what it is. I was wondering if you would be willing to try to identify it for us."

"All right," Lynda replied carefully, "Do you have it in that bag there?"

"Yes, here you are," and he opened the bag so that she could see.

She was very still for a moment then started to snicker. "Mrs. Hill?" Weasley asked hesitantly. Lynda started howling with laughter.

"I'm -_he he-_ sorry! _Ha ha-_ This is just too funny!"

"Why?" Weasley asked, clearly embarrassed, "What is it?"

"It's a -_he he he-_ a -_ha ha-_ a -_ha ha-_ It's a -_he he he_..."

"Lynda?" Lucius said in a disapproving tone, "Get a hold of yourself."

"But it's a -_ha ha ha-_ and he's -_he he-_ he's carrying -_ha ha-_ it around with him -_HA HA HA_!"

"Um..." Weasley was as red as a beet. Mortified, he snapped the bag closed and wandered back to his wife.

Even though he didn't understand what was so funny, Lucius snickered as Lynda continued to laugh. When she finally stopped, Lynda grinned at Lucius, "I'm sorry, but that was just too bizarre."

"What was it?"

"I'm not sure I should tell you," Lynda giggled, "It's not the type of thing discussed in civilized conversation."

"Oh, come now," Lucius huffed; he was practically burning with curiosity, "You just laughed in a man's face; that isn't civilized."

"But you're civilized, I'm sure," she teased.

"I don't quite know about that; I've done some very uncivilized things in my time."

Lynda started laughing again, and Lucius had the feeling that he had just inadvertently made a joke at his own expense. "For Merlin's sake, Lynda, just tell me what was in the damn bag!"

"No, I don't think I will," she grinned. Lucius realized that she was enjoying this immensely.

"Why not?"

"Because you'd use it to humiliate the poor man, Lucius. I know that you hate him."

"Well, if that's the case, I have other ways of finding out. You may as well just tell me and spare us all the effort."

"You're bluffing. And even if you are not, I won't know that unless I call you on it, will I?"

"True, but by then the papers could be involved."

"Oh, for goodness sake, Lucius! It's not that big of a deal."

"Then why won't you tell me?"

She grinned again, "It's just killing you, isn't it?"

"Yes!" Lucius growled, "Tell me, damn it!"

Lynda laughed more. "My shoulder angel is telling me not to tell you, and the devil is trying to decide weather it would be more fun to embarrass Weasley or to torture you. Either way, I'm not telling you."

"What are you talking about?"

"What? Don't wizards have shoulder angels?" Lucius gave her a weird look. "Your shoulder angel is that little voice in your head that tells you to do the right thing; it's a metaphor for conscience. Your devil is on the other shoulder, and he, or she, tells you to be mean to people. Everybody has a cruel side."

"What do these 'shoulder angels' look like?"

Lynda laughed yet again, "It's just a metaphor, silly! Though in the cartoons, they look like miniature yous; the angel has wings and a halo, and the devil had little, red horns and a barbed tail."

Lucius smiled; he knew who his angel was. Unfortunately, he knew who his devil was too; and as he had told Draco, Abraxas would still be with him for as long as Lucius lived. But at least Lucius now knew that Draco was the stronger of the two.

"But I still want to know what Weasley has in that bag, Lynda."

O~O~O~O~O

When the Hogwarts Express pulled into the station thirty minutes later, Lucius had still not gotten Lynda to tell him what Weasley had confiscated.

"I'm not going to tell you, Lucius! Flare, honey!" Lynda suddenly declared, pulling her daughter into a hug.

"Hey, Mum," the tall, blond girl replied, looking a bit embarrassed at her mother's enthusiastic greeting. Lucius scanned the crowd for Draco, finally finding him, dressed, as per Lucius" instructions, in the shirt and trousers he wore under his school robes on cold days. Draco was carrying Hades' cage in his hand, pushing a pair of second years down the steps of the train.

"Hurry up; other people need to get off the train, you know."

"Hello, Draco," Lucius, greeted carefully. The platform was a lot more crowded than the Three Broomsticks, and Lucius did not want to embarrass his son in front of all his classmates. But Draco seemed to have other ideas.

"Hello, Father," he smiled, hugging Lucius tightly. Lucius hugged him back.

"I missed you," Draco murmured into Lucius' shoulder.

"I missed you too. Are you feeling all right?"

"Yeah. I just haven't been getting too much sleep lately."

Lucius brow wrinkled with worry, "Why? OWLs were a week ago."

"Yeah, I know. But there's other stuff. I'll tell you later; I want to say goodbye to Millie before we leave."

"All right." Lucius wrapped one arm around Draco's shoulders as the boy steered them around the platform looking for his friend.

It was Lucius who found her, but not by sight. "Don't be stupid, girl. Draco Malfoy would never have anything to do with an ugly thing like you, now come on."

"Draco..." Lucius began hesitantly.

"Oh, Millie!"

"Draco!" The girl, in whom Lucius could see the ogre blood instantly, smiled.

The girls' parents gaped, open-mouthed as Draco hugged Millicent, then kissed her on the cheek. Lucius smiled and extended his hand when they broke apart, "Good afternoon, Miss Bulstrode. Draco had told me a great deal about you."

The poor girl look positively dumbstruck as she shook his had limply, "G-good afternoon, M-Mr. Malfoy."

"I do hope you will find time to visit us at the Manor this summer."

"Yes!" Draco agreed. "You can practice quidditch with me; we have a full pitch on the grounds."

"Oh, we would love that!" Millicent's mother answered for her daughter, her voice dripping with a syrupy, fake friendliness.

Lucius, who had heard enough from Draco about how this woman and her husband treated Millicent to know what sort of person she was, gave her a chilling stare. "You practice quidditch?" he asked dryly, "Funny, you don't quite have the appearance of an athlete."

The woman was clearly too enamored of Lucius' money to be angered by the insult; she merely flushed with embarrassment, "Well, it has been years..."

Lucius knew perfectly well that this woman had never played quidditch, but ignored the lie in favor of using the opening to praise Millicent. "Then I fear you would be hard pressed to keep up with Draco or your daughter," Lucius replied snidely, "I hear she is one of the best quidditch players Slytherin had seen in decades."

"Too right, she is," Draco agreed. Millicent blushed deeply at the compliment.

"Well, of course, we can leave the children to their sport while we discuss business," Mr. Bulstrode decided to but in.

Lucius smiled mockingly, "I am retired from the Ministry, and I prefer to leave my finances in the hands of goblins; a true gentleman is above such petty matters, don't you think?"

"Uh..." Lucius knew that the Bulstrodes were not in the financial class where they could afford leave everything in the hands of the goblins; what's more, they knew it too.

"Well, I am sure that you would love to meet our other daughter," Mrs. Bulstrode simpered, "She's a liaison with the British ambassador in Germany. I know that she would *love* to meet you and Draco." There was a certain quality to the tone of Mrs. Bulstrode's voice when she said that last sentence that told Lucius that the annoying woman had read the Witch Weekly article. The implications for both Lucius and Draco were quite disturbing.

"Does she play quidditch?" Draco asked innocently. Lucius raised a mental eyebrow; he knew that Draco knew that Angela Bulstrode had never gone near the sport.

"No..."

"Then I doubt we would have anything to talk about," Draco replied, causing Mrs. Bulstrode to flush. Millicent gave Draco a shy, thankful smile, and Lucius was terribly proud of how Draco had handled himself.

"Oh, hi, you must be Millie's parents," Blaise Valini said out of nowhere.

Lucius nearly laughed at the Bulstrode's reaction to Blaise's manner of dress (short, black trousers covered in metal spikes that looked ready to side down his hips any second and a black shirt that was open in front, showing off his bare abdomen to everyone in the station). Mrs. Bulstrode put a hand to her mouth, looking as if he had offended her sensibilities so that she might faint. Mr. Bulstrode's eyes were bulging out under his low, sloping brow. "Hello? Anyone in there?" Blaise asked, waving his hand in front of Mr. Bulstrode's face. Mr. Bulstrode scowled menacingly and Blaise quickly withdrew his hand.

"Um, anyway, I just wanted to wish you a good summer, Draco, Millicent."

Draco looked questioningly at the tanned boy, "I thought that Dumbledore had adopted you."

"It's still going to be a few weeks to get all the paperwork cleared up; Fudge is just being an arse because he feels threatened by Dumbledore - I think Fudge had some kind of sexual dysfunction, to tell the truth. I'm staying with Harry and Sirius until then."

"With Black? I'm sorry," Draco said sincerely.

Blaise grinned, "It will be an adventure! I'll be like Jane Goodall, observing the apes in their natural habitat."

"Watch out for fleas," Draco replied sincerely.

Blaise laughed, "Don't worry; I'll have Madam Pomfrey do a parasite check when I get back to Hogwarts. I have to go now; I'll be seein' you. By the way, Mrs. Bulstrode, you might want to pick up some new robes; those kind of... accentuate the size of your arse. Bye, Draco!" and he ran off, the chains attached to his trousers making a loud, jingling noise.

"How dare he!" Mrs. Bulstrode declared.

Draco raised an eyebrow, "You don't like my roommate?" he asked imperiously.

"He was perfectly pleasant when he visited the Manor last Yule," Lucius added.

It was a delight to see how the Bulsrodes stuttered and flushed, trying to cover up their 'faux pas'. But Millicent, (quite a fine girl, really) actually took pity on them, "Um, I think it's time we went home. Have a good summer, Draco."

"You will come over, won't you?" Draco asked, suddenly sounding younger than he was.

"Sure," Millicent blushed, as her parents gave Draco blinding, fake smiles.

"I'll owl you with a time. Goodbye," Draco added shyly.

"Goodbye, Draco, Mr. Malfoy," Mrs. Bulstrode said in a sickeningly sweet tone.

"Goodbye, Millicent," Lucius replied, pointedly giving the girl a charming smile.

"Goodbye, Mr. Malfoy," she smiled back, practically dragging her parents away from them. When they had passed through the barrier, Lucius shared a look with his son.

"Well, that was certainly an... experience," Lucius said.

Draco grinned, "Blaise had perfect timing." They both had a long, hearty laugh, but eventually, it tapered off, and Draco sighed sadly, "Millicent really deserves better than them."

"Yes, she does."

"What's in the bag, Mr. Weasley?" they suddenly heard Blaise ask loudly.

Lucius turned, listening curiously. Draco wandered towards his roommate's voice, and Lucius fallowed until they could both see the blush that covered Weasley's entire face. "Um... we're not quite sure; I need to take it back to the office..."

Blaise grinned slightly; he could obviously tell that Mr. Weasley was hiding something. "I'm sure I could tell you what it is; are you sure you don't want me to take a peek?"

Lucius and Draco watched, amused as Weasley tried to think of excuse not to let Blaise have the bag. Finally, it was Black who took the matter out of his hands. While Blaise kept wheedling Weasley for the bag, Black crept up behind the balding man and grabbed it right out of his hand. Black snapped the bag open, an expression of confusion on his face. "What, by Merlin, is this?" he asked, pulling the object out of the bag.

Blaise got one glance of it and began to laugh hysterically, while the Grangers, who had been exchanging pleasantries with the Weasleys, look scandalized. "It's a vibrator!" Blaise shrieked; which only served to confuse the wizards more.

Mortified, Weasley snatched the bag and the 'vibrator' out of Black's hands, tossing the object, which Lucius had just noticed to be phallus shaped, into the bag. But he could not seem to help asking Blaise, "So, um... what is it used for?"

Blaise made a visible effort to compose himself, wiping tears out of his eyes. "It's a sexual aid device. You put batteries in it-"

"Oh, batteries!"

Blaise giggled, "Yeah, batteries. When you turn it on, it vibrates, and you put it in... well, whatever orifice you want stimulated."

"Arthur!" Mrs. Weasley gasped, completely shocked. "Don't you dare bring that thing into the house!"

"If I may ask," Blaise ventured, trying desperately to suppress his giggles, "What was it enchanted to do?"

Mr. Weasley blushed such a bright shade of red that he looked as if he had stuck his head inside a bucket of paint. Almost everyone assembled began laughing so loudly that whatever reply Weasley might have made to Blaise's inquiry was drowned out. Draco was laughing so hard that Lucius grabbed him about the waist, afraid that he might fall. This was a little difficult to manage as Lucius himself was laughing so hard that tears were steaming down his face.

Lynda walked by, grinning widely. "Get a hold of yourself, Lucius!" she teased. Flare just shook her head, trying to hide the fact that she, also, was laughing.

Lucius managed to compose himself just enough to wish Lynda a nice summer. To be honest, he didn't really want to stop laughing. Making such a spectacle of himself in public went against everything he always believed, but it felt good to laugh. Lucius hadn't felt this good in a long, long time. And Draco was enjoying himself, too, which, of course, meant everything to Lucius.

When the laughter tapered off, and Draco was standing on his own again, gasping for air and wiping tears out of his eyes, Lucius asked, "Are you ready to go home, son?" Draco nodded, clearly still too out of breath to speak. "Let's go find your trunk, then."

Lucius shrank Draco's trunk; it was easier to carry and fit in Lucius' car that way. Once they had fought their way through the crowd, Lucius led Draco to where he had parked the Viper. Draco was glancing around curiously; he had never walked this way before.

Once they were more or less alone, Lucius took the opportunity to ask Draco, "So are you willing to tell me what has caused you to lose sleep recently?"

"Oh, you know. Stuff."

"Stuff?"

"Yeah."

Well, Draco was certainly being cooperative, Lucius thought wryly. But that did not mean that Lucius was going to let it drop. "Is this about Millicent?"

"Some. More like... girls in general."

Lucius raised an eyebrow. "Go on."

Draco flushed and looked away, "Well... I was wondering... when is it okay to... you know."

"No, I'm afraid I don't know."

Draco shook his head, "This is stupid. I always knew that you were supposed to wait until marriage, but lately everyone has gone around bragging about all the girls they've shagged or boys they kissed, and sometimes I feel like I want to, but I don't know if I really want to or what you would think, and I don't want to do anything to make you disappointed in me, and I'm not sure what Millie wants or even if she's ever thought about it and... stuff." Draco had to take a deep breath after blurting out everything all at once. Lucius took the opportunity to concoct a reply; he had never anticipated having to have this conversation with his son.

Finally, he asked the one question he most feared the answer to, "Do you love her?"

Draco looked at him seriously. "I don't know."

"Then I think you should wait until you do know." It seemed like the best answer at the time.

Draco smiled, apparently glad to have Lucius make the decision for him, "Okay."

Lucius sighed inwardly; he knew that he had merely managed to stave off the inevitable. But that was a thought that could wait until another day. They walked on in silence, finally finding Lucius' car among the other parked vehicles.

"So this is it," Draco remarked, as Lucius unlocked the passenger side door for him.

Lucius looked up. He knew that Draco was resistant to the idea of his having a car, and as much as he loved it, Lucius would get rid of it in a second if Draco openly asked him to. "Yes. I thought that you might enjoy a ride in it; it's much faster than the ministry limousines."

Draco merely nodded as he got in his seat, Hades' cage on his lap. Lucius bucked Draco's seat belt over his narrow waist and closed the door, then walked to the driver's side of the car. As he got in, Draco asked inquisitively, "What does this button do?"

Lucius smiled.

*THE END*


End file.
